


Still Jack and Daniel Series 2 - Ghosts of the Past III - How Daniel Jackson O'Neill beat the Devil

by Annejackdanny



Series: Still Jack and Daniel Series 2 - No Yellow Brick Road/Ghosts of the Past [8]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Kidfic, M/M, Slash, Violence, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-01
Updated: 2012-10-01
Packaged: 2017-11-15 10:21:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 36,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/526229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annejackdanny/pseuds/Annejackdanny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which LD wants a bike, has a visitor in his tree house and deals with the evils of the past...</p><p>In which Jack is trying to be less of a mother-hen and give Daniel what he wants...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How Daniel Jackson O'Neill  beat the Devil  I

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: The title and the bits of the bike are a little homage to Stephen King's “It“, which has helped me work through some of my own childhood bully experiences and will be one of my all time favorite books. 
> 
> This story is for Truffles and Teddy in memorandum

**Ghosts from the Past**

**III**

**How Daniel Jackson O'Neill**

**beat the Devil**

**I**

  
  


“Daniel? Earth to...” 

“Huh?” LD blinked and turned to look at his adult self. “Sorry. I was still going over that translation in my mind.” 

They stopped at a red light and LD gazed at the car next to theirs. The light switched to green and they continued on their way home. BD glanced over. “You think you overstretched Jack's tolerance level by working this late?”

LD shook his head. “No. When Jack left the mountain he told me to get dinner at the commissary. It was his only condition for letting me work late. We didn't agree on a time I should be home.”

“That’s good. I don't want him in my face the moment I drop you off.” Big Daniel grinned. 

LD stiffed a yawn. “He won't.”

When they reached the driveway, BD parked the jeep and shut off the engine. “Here we are.”

Daniel un-clipped his seat belt and opened the door. “Thanks for dropping me off.” He hopped out, grabbing his backpack and lightweight booster seat.

“No problem. Say hi to Jack from me. I'd come in myself, but it's late.” 

“Yep.” Daniel placed the seat on the ground and shouldered his backpack. “See you tomorrow.” 

“Do you need help with your stuff?” 

“No, thanks.” 

BD looked doubtful but knew better than to patronize Daniel too much. “Okay. I'll wait till you're inside though.”

Daniel slammed the door shut and gave his friend a little wave.

As he juggled booster seat and backpack on his way to the front door he wished they'd let him drive without the stupid seat. Granted, it wasn't a booster seat for little kids, but one of those cushions for older children. The good thing about it was that it could be placed in the front as well as in the back, so he could still ride in the passenger seat. Still... it was a booster seat.

He dumped pack and seat to the ground because he needed both hands to open the front door. When Daniel had been big he’d often found Jack's door unlocked and could walk right in. Once he'd become a kid and gone to live with Jack again, a new lock had been installed along with some alarm system just in case the NID wanted to pay them a visit. So even when the door wasn't locked now, Daniel needed a key to get in. Knowing Jack was home and not in bed yet, the alarm system would be off though.

He could hear the dog barking inside, announcing his arrival.

Daniel froze. His keys weren't in his jeans pocket. A quick search revealed they weren't in his jacket either. Had he lost them? Maybe they had fallen out of his jacket or jeans when he put his regular clothes into his locker this morning?

But before his worries moved to the panic stage, Daniel remembered he had thrown his keys into his backpack before leaving the house because he'd been late and Jack nagged at him to hurry...

Grimacing, he crouched and grabbed his rucksack to open it when loud yelling from somewhere down the street made him freeze once more. He couldn't see what was going on because Jack's house wasn't sat right at the street. But those were definitely running kids.

Daniel kept perfectly still and listened, a cold shudder running down his spine. There was something menacing in the way those faceless kids were screaming and laughing even though he couldn't make out any words.

He decided to ring the bell instead of searching for his keys.

With a last wave at BD, whose jeep was still in the driveway, he rose and pushed the door bell. A moment later Jack opened and let him in. When Daniel entered the house he heard the jeep leave and its engines drowned out the kids.

“Sorry. I heard the dog, but I was in the basement putting laundry into the dryer,” Jack said, then frowned. “Did you lose your keys?” 

“No, they're in my backpack.” Daniel dropped the booster seat in the hallway next to the door and his pack on top of it as Flyboy greeted him enthusiastically, demanding a belly rub and a cuddle while Jack hung back and patiently waited his turn. 

Once the dog was satisfied and assured that his young friend was home sound and safe, Jack gave Daniel his obligatory hair ruffle and asked how his day was. They hadn't seen each other much today. Jack had been stuck in meetings with people from Washington to get the Homeworld Security program off the ground and Daniel had been busy working on a major project with BD and helping Cameron Balinsky to categorize artifacts.

“Working late helped a lot. Thanks for letting me, by the way. We made good progress with those translations you probably don't want to hear about. But there's still text we have to decipher.” 

“You'll figure it out,” Jack said, all confidence. “When's the deadline again?” 

“Tuesday. That's when SG-6 has to return to the planet and sign the treaty. It'd be a lot easier if the natives had translated the treaty for us since they do speak English. But apparently they refuse to translate because it's against their laws and is considered an insult to their gods. But BD and I are getting there. It's just lots of stuff to read.” 

“Two of you working on this job – what could possibly go wrong? Hey, the dog needs out. I'll get the leash.” 

Daniel quickly stomped down the tinge of unease at the thought of those kids in the street. Jack and the dog would be with him and besides, he had no quarrel with those brats.

When Jack returned and hooked the excited dog to the leash they stepped out into the warm summer night.

There were a couple of routes they used to take in the evenings. For long walks they would drive to the park. They'd meet other dog owners and the dogs always had fun playing while their humans exchanged friendly greetings and a bit of small talk. Flyboy was a friendly guy when it came to other dogs and made quite a few friends. They often went there on the weekends, too.

But tonight it was late so they just kept Flyboy on the leash and walked around the block.

“I took him for a long run in the woods when we left the mountain. So he should be happy with the short tour tonight.” Jack held out the leash to Daniel. “Here.” 

He took over, wrapping the leash securely around his hand like Jack had showed him. Flyboy was too busy sniffing the ground to notice the exchange.

“I wish I could take him on my own,” Daniel said wistfully, knowing this was an argument he wouldn't win anytime soon. 

“I know,” Jack said. “I don't even think he'd leave your side, even if you took him without his leash. Unless there's a cat. But you know the drill. Dogs on leash unless you take them to one of the areas where they are allowed to run free. And he's still a little tough when he's on leash sometimes.” 

“I know,” Daniel grumbled. They’d had this discussion on and off so he knew all the points of reason. 

“Sorry, buddy. Maybe next year.” Jack patted his shoulder. 

Daniel wondered if Flyboy could learn to run with the bike. But he'd rather bit his tongue than to say it out loud. Bringing up the bike wasn't a good idea.

Flyboy was pulling at the leash now, wanting to go faster and Daniel tried hard not to look like it was difficult to keep pace. He gave the leash a short tug, commanding the dog to slow down. Flyboy stopped, turned his head and snuffled before he walked on more composed. “See?” Daniel couldn't help but gloat a little. “He's doing just what I tell him to. He's a good dog.”

“I know he's a good dog, Daniel,” Jack said wearily. “That's not the point.” 

“You just don't want me to go out alone,” Daniel muttered against better judgment. “Once I got my bike you have to let me go out alone anyway. Why...” Trailing off, Daniel silently cursed his big mouth. He shouldn't really start this argument right now. What if Jack changed his mind about the bike after all? Sure, he had said yes already, but it had been a hard round of negotiation and lots of diplomatic loops and somersaults on Daniel's part to get him there. 

“I don't 'have' to let you go out alone at all,” Jack snapped. 

“But you will be gracious and understanding.” Daniel tried to save the day with a joke. “Right?” 

“I'll give you gracious and understanding,” Jack growled, scowling down at him. 

“Generous and sensible? Please?” 

“I'm so doomed,” Jack sighed, giving Daniel's head a playful swipe. “Stop gushing.” 

Peace restored, Daniel let out a relieved breath. But he knew Jack wasn't a happy camper. He had balked right away when Daniel finally worked up the courage to ask him about a bike. He’d gotten mad even, making Daniel feel like he'd asked for something totally outrageous. Like a car or a scooter. That Jack had finally given in was probably more courtesy of BD, Sam and Teal'c who had stepped up to the plate and helped with the negotiation. And Doctor Svenson had done her part, too.

Daniel sighed inwardly. Maybe this was a stupid idea after all.

Going out alone wasn't even an issue most of the times.

He got plenty of private time and space. He didn't need to run around alone in the streets and there were no friends he would want to hang out with... no friends his current age anyway. It was a matter of independence. A matter of “I can if I wanted to even if I don't want to”. Kids his age went out to play alone. Rode their bikes alone. Sure, they mostly went as a gang or with at least one other kid most of the times. But not all the time. And if regular kids could go out alone, why wouldn't Daniel be able to go out alone?

_Because there's the NID and the Trust..._ Jack's voice echoed in his head from one of the many times they’d gone around this subject. 

Still, Jack had said yes to the bike.

“Sorry,” Daniel offered. 

The familiar gentle squeeze of a large hand on his neck made him look up. “Hey,” Jack said. “It's been a long day. Let's go home.”

They strolled through the quiet neighborhood and Daniel enjoyed the warm summer air. He tipped his head back to look at the stars. He loved sitting on the roof stargazing with Jack. It was his favorite summer-evening thing to do. Something he’d enjoyed when he'd been big and carried over into this life. He didn't think they were going to do it tonight though. It was very late already. Maybe...

Flyboy started growling deep in his throat and shot forward like a missile. Yelping in surprise as his arm seemed to be ripped off his shoulder, Daniel tumbled and nearly lost his balance. “Flyboy, stop!” He snapped at the barking dog. Stomping both feet into the ground, he held on to the leash with both hands. “Stop!”

Jack grabbed Flyboy's collar and pulled him back, keeping hold of him.

The loud drumming of footsteps on the pavement ahead of them made the hairs on Daniel's neck rise. Jack's other hand shot out and he was pulled away from the streetlights into the dark shadows of a privet hedge. Daniel bit down on his lip to keep in a surprised yelp, his heart jack-hammering against his ribs. Was this it? Did the NID want him after all? Jack's reflexes were so fast... he'd never let anything happen to Daniel... but who...

The tension lasted only for a moment as three boys came running down the street and passed them. When Flyboy let out another loud bark, they jumped and almost stumbled over one another.

“Oh man, a dog...” 

“Get a move on, he can't be far...” 

“Where does that coward hide?” 

Jack, who had let go of Daniel at the sight of the other kids, pulled the dog back once more. “Hey guys... it's a bit late for making such a rukus out here, don't ya think?”

“Yeah, right, Mister,” one of the boys yelled back over his shoulder. “None of your business.” 

“Shut up, Chuck,” the second one hissed and pushed his friend forward. 

“Come on,” kid number three called from somewhere out of the dark. “Let's go home. We can always get the dweeb tomorrow. I'll get Buster to help.” 

Flyboy pulled at his leash again, barking wildly, until Jack took it from Daniel and silenced him with a few sharp words. Once the dog lost interest in the kids who were long gone, Jack patted his head and then turned to Daniel. “Come on, let's...”

Only when Jack stared at him quizzically did Daniel realize he had plastered himself against the privet hedge. Branches poked him through his sweatshirt and scratched at the back of his head. He had almost crawled inside the hedge.

Embarrassed, he hastily stepped away from it. “Are they gone?” Why was his voice trembling like this?

“Yeah, they're gone. Brats. You okay?” 

“Uh, yeah. I'm fine.” Rubbing his arm, Daniel gave Jack a little sheepish grin. “I guess you're right about him.” He waved at the dog. 

Jack rubbed Flyboy's head again and, obviously choosing to ignore Daniel's odd behavior for now, said, “Ready to go?”

“Yeah.” Daniel jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, fighting the urge to take Jack's hand like a little kid. 

Once they reached the house, Flyboy started growling again, trying to make a beeline for the backyard.

“What's wrong with him?” Daniel asked, staring into the darkness as they continued on the paved way to the front door. The anxious dog almost ran into the rose bushes next to the entryway. 

“Flyboy,” Jack snapped, yanking him back. “I don't know. Maybe a cat or a hedgehog. I guess I'll better take a look though.” He punched in the code to deactivate the alarm system, then handed Daniel the key. “We'll be right in.” 

Inside, Daniel toed off his sneakers and went into the kitchen to get a glass of water. Staring at his slightly trembling hands as he filled the glass he shook his head.

Goa'uld he could take on, but a bunch of hooligan kids were giving him the creeps.

They’d been looking for someone. He was sure the three boys were the same kids he had heard screaming and laughing before. Slowly drinking the cool liquid he wondered whom the kids had bullied. He was all too familiar with the signs, the typical malicious sound of their laughter and yelling. And he knew kids often chased other kids in a gaggle. He had been at the receiving end of such a chase often enough in his first childhood.

Placing his empty glass on the counter, he hurried to open the back door when Jack knocked. “Did you find anything?” he asked immediately when the dog brushed past him to find his water bowl.

“Nope. Nothing there. And he calmed down pretty fast. Probably Trevor's cat.” Shaking his head Jack scowled at the dog. “I hope we don't have another raccoon under the deck.” 

“When I'm allowed to go off world again, I'd like to visit Nashi,” Daniel said. “I think we should bring him a mate. He must be lonely. Can't even build a family.” 

“Yeah,” Jack agreed, “poor little critter. I'm just not sure Hammond will allow another raccoon on base ever again.” 

“I apologized,” Daniel winced. “Sincerely.” 

“The raccoon still ruined the general's chair. Not to mention the havoc it created on his desk.” 

“Don't remind me, okay?” Daniel felt the heat of embarrassment crawl into his cheeks, even now after almost a year. 

Jack grinned. “I'll never forget when he jumped into the pudding bowl. I think it even beats the food fight with Anna.”

“Jaaaack,” Daniel whined, ducking his head to hide the blush. “Stop it! If you want comedy, turn on the TV, please?” 

“It was chocolate pudding, right?” 

“I don't remember,” Daniel huffed. “And you of all people didn't think it was funny at the time.” 

Jack chuckled. “Ah, but with some distance even I can see the humor in it.”

“I'm still waiting for you to see the humor in me almost drowning in that pond and sabotaging the stuffing machine at the Furry Friends shop,” Daniel muttered. He had spend two weeks without coffee, his own TV and with only limited access to his laptop as consequences for his childish behavior and running away from BD twice. 

Jack snorted. “It will be part of the wonders and adventures of your second childhood.”

Before Daniel could make a smart remark, Jack sobered up and gently nudged him. “It’s Friday tomorrow. Do you want me to come along for your appointment with Svenson? Or you'd rather I drop you off and go shopping while you're with her.”

Oh, shoot. Why did it have to be Friday tomorrow already?

Daniel chewed on his bottom lip as he remembered his last meeting with her. They had talked about what happened at the Furry Friend Shop a couple of months ago and how part of Daniel still denied himself to act and feel like a child. He’d been puzzled at first because they had covered that subject in another meeting already. But it soon turned out she only used the incident to venture into other topics...

_... “Jack says I don't have to do kiddie stuff if I don't feel comfortable doing it.”_

“ _You said you want to try and explore this childlike side of your personality now. Nobody is forcing you, so it's all about what you want,” Svenson replied, her blue eyes set on Daniel._

_He put together a jigsaw while they talked. He could communicate better with her when his hands were occupied and his mind didn't have to focus on the conversation too much. The more he thought about what he was saying, the more he guarded himself and his words. Multitasking helped him to relax around her._

“ _But I felt forced. They made me go into the Bear shop.” He blushed. “It's stupid...” He trailed off, then sighed. “They don't mean to crowd me. I know that.”_

_Doctor Svenson left Daniel's statement untouched. Instead she asked, “You got consequences for both, what happened at the store and because you ran away the day after, when you had the accident with the pond. Jack told me you took it very well.”_

_Daniel shrugged. “I tend to over react at times and do these kind of things. Oh, and I kinda yelled at Jack when we first talked about it.” He felt the blush start in his ears and quickly lowered his face to stare at the jigsaw. It was a dolphin family underwater. “Jack gets anxious about me wandering off.”_

_There was a pause and when Daniel looked up, the Doctor returned his gaze thoughtfully. “I understand he worries the NID might get a hold on you.”_

“ _The NID didn't try anything. They were after us when we were in Egypt, but that was more about that statue, the Yggdrasil, not because of me. They never showed up at our house or anything. Jack says they might bide their time and we have to be careful. But I don't think the NID is all that interested in me,” Daniel said, frowning. “But Jack knows I get lost sometimes.”_

“ _If he would let you go out alone, you might lose track of time?”_

_Daniel placed another jigsaw piece and looked for the next. “Jack talked to you about this, right? Did he tell you I was often late when I was big? And that I wandered off and touched things that got us in trouble? I'm attracting trouble like light pulls in moths. Seriously, the whole bike thing is probably a bad idea and I bet he's angsting about it.”_

“ _You have second thoughts about the bike.” It wasn't a question._

_Daniel's hands stilled, the jigsaw piece hovering over the table. “I don't know. Maybe I don't really want it that much. It means a lot of hassle.”_

“ _When we first talked about the bike you pointed out it would make you feel more independent.”_

“ _Yeah, it would. It's probably more a psychological thing than real independence. The mobile library bus comes to Vehr Street once a month. I could go there... But Jack said he'll have to clear the security risk factor with General Hammond first.” And that seemed to be a lot of trouble to go through just so Daniel could ride a bike._

“ _Yet, Jack already said yes. He took a huge step forward by doing so.”_

“ _But he's not happy,” Daniel processed his thoughts, placing another puzzle piece._

“ _You aren’t always happy about the way things develop. Yet, you usually know what’s the right thing to do,” Svenson said._

_Daniel looked doubtful. “You think Jack thinks giving me a bike is the right thing to do even though he doesn’t like it?”_

“ _Maybe.”_

“ _Huh.”_

“ _Jack and you could do bike trips together,” Svenson suggested with a smile._

“ _Yeah,” Daniel said. They had talked about that, too. Jack had a bike. And he used to ride it on Sundays before... before they had become an item and spent most of their weekends together. And their weekends together didn't include bike tours. Daniel never felt the urge to ride a bike when he'd been big. Go figure._

“ _You have second thoughts because you sense how uneasy Jack feels about it,” she concluded._

“ _I guess there are a lot of reasons. It's cluttered.” He shouldn't have said that. Every time he admitted he felt overwhelmed or that his mind was sort of cluttered with thoughts and issues, she told him to..._

“ _I would like you to write your thoughts about this down. If you do it as a list or an essay is up to you. It might help you to un-clutter and find out what your issues really are. You are still writing a personal journal, aren’t you?”_

_Right. That. He nodded._

“ _You can write into your journal just for yourself. But I would like to hear about your thoughts on the topic next week.”_

_Wasn't his time up yet?_

_As if on cue she looked at her watch. “Oh, I'm afraid we have to continue next week Daniel. Maybe you could talk to Jack about your issues. But if you don't want to, that's fine. Just remember how important communication is.”_

“ _Yes, I know. He can't read my mind.” Not all the time at least, Daniel thought._

“ _And neither can you read his,” she said with a little smile._

_He said goodbye as she led him out of her office where Jack waited with Flyboy asleep at his feet...._

  
...and Daniel had put off the assignment from day to day, not wanting to deal with it. As it was the week had gone by way too fast for his liking. Maybe he should just forget about the whole bike thing entirely. He really didn't need one that bad. If it meant Jack was uneasy about it and worrying.

Except the Schwinn had been a dream of his first childhood and it had looked so cool. If they could get one of those and patch it up together... Daniel realized with some unease how much he liked the thought of that.

He had dreamed of taking his foster brother's bike and riding off with it, somewhere safe. Somewhere noone would find him. Had envisioned how he’d put miles and miles of distance between himself and…

And that was really something he preferred not to think about, period.

“I can see Doctor Svenson alone,” he told Jack abruptly. He didn't want to talk about bikes and independence with the doc and Jack. It would just bring up new conflicts. And Daniel really didn't want conflicts. Maybe that was it. He was in a good place right now; they were getting along quite nicely. As much as he wanted that bike... the longer he thought about it, the less appealing it seemed to be in the long run. 

“Okay. Suits me. We need food. Make a list if you want extra stuff.” 

Daniel put his glass into the sink and stiffed another yawn. “'kay. There's this new brand of chocolate I saw in a commercial the other day...”

“I think someone's watching too much TV,” Jack muttered. 

“We were watching together...” 

“Can't remember a thing.” 

“You're old, that's why.” 

“Ah, off to bed with you, Wretch,” Jack huffed, but laughed. 

Later, when Daniel had showered, brushed his teeth and changed into his night tee, Jack strolled in to say good night.

While Daniel crawled under his covers, Jack closed the drapes and patted the dog, who was trying to find a comfortable place at Daniel's feet. Jack sat on the edge of the bed and fiddled with the blankets – neither one of them would call it 'tucking in' loudly, but that was exactly what Jack did and it was exactly what Daniel liked.

“Night, Jack,” he said when he had placed his glasses on the nightstand. 

“Night, kiddo. Don't let the bed bugs bite,” Jack grinned, tweaking Daniel's nose. 

He pulled a face and rolled his eyes. “Ja-ack.”

“Hey,” Jack said, becoming serious again. “You okay, Daniel? Those kids out there earlier didn't bring up some nasty memories?” 

“I'm fine.” Daniel waved impatiently at Jack when he opened his mouth to object. “Really, I am. You know I got bullied as a kid and those boys kinda startled me. It looked like they were after someone. But it wasn't me, so... yep, I'm fine.” 

“Just checking,” Jack said gently. “You looked a little spooked there for a moment.” 

“I was,” Daniel admitted quietly. “But it's okay now.” 

“They sure weren't kids I'd like you to hang out with.” 

“It weren't kids I'd like to hang out with either,” Daniel snorted. 

They looked at each other and Jack pursed his lips. “Are there any kids you'd like to hang out with at all?”

Daniel shrugged. Last summer Doctor Svenson had suggested he should go to the Cheyenne Mountain daycare for a few hours a week to spend time with children his current age. Jack had told her it would be Daniel's choice alone if he wanted to do that and Daniel had flatly refused to even discuss it. Since then they hadn't talked about him spending time with kids again.

However, he had made friends with Anna in Egypt and they were still writing e-mails.

Interpreting his silence wrong, Jack raised his hands in a calming manner and backed off. “I didn't imply anything here. I was just wondering...”

“No, it's fine,” Daniel said. “I dunno. I never thought about hanging out with other kids.” 

Jack stood and, giving Daniel's hair a last tousle, smiled down at him. “You don't have to if you don't want to. Get some sleep now.”

Yawning, he snuggled into his pillow as Jack left the room.

**II**

Friday started pleasantly enough. Jack spoiled Daniel with a mug of coffee in bed. Stretching his small body leisurely, he accepted the treat with a wide smile – something nobody else would lure out of Daniel at this time of the day. “Thanks.”

With a playful bow, Jack said, “I live to serve.” He went over and opened the drapes. “You have thirty to get ready, fifteen if you want breakfast.”

Slurping his coffee, Daniel considered this, then asked, “Do we have Pop Tarts?”

“Blueberry,” Jack confirmed.”Full of sugar and unhealthy stuff.” 

“You eat Fruit Loops,” Daniel countered. 

“There's that. But then my body's used, old and battered anyway.” 

“Yep,” Daniel quipped, sipping from his coffee. “Pop Tarts, please?” 

Giving him a sloppy salute, Jack left Daniel to his beverage.

When he strolled into the kitchen twenty minutes later, empty mug in hand, two blueberry pop tarts were waiting for him while Jack was munching away on his bowl of Fruit Loops. They compared their working schedule over breakfast.

“I'm in budget meetings this morning, from 9 to 11,” Jack said, grimacing. “The things I have to do as 2IC. You think I could send Carter to cover for me?” 

Daniel snorted and Jack shrugged. “She's way better with those suits from Washington. Next I'll have a briefing with Hammond about Homeworld Security.” Leaning across the table Jack added in a mock conspiratorial voice, “The President might be on the phone.”

“Cool. Say hi from me,” Daniel replied. 

“You're no fun. You could at least pretend you're impressed,” Jack muttered. 

“I'm so in awe.” 

“Wretch.” 

“I need to continue working on those translations for SG-6 with Daniel. But first I'll be in a meeting of the archaeological department. They got permission to order new books and everyone can turn in a list. But don't tell the guys at the budget meeting. They might cancel it on short notice,” Daniel said, licking blueberry from his lips and fingers. 

“So, lunch with the others at 13:00?” 

“Sure. What's on the menu?” 

“It's Friday. Fish, I guess. And probably burgers. What's going on this afternoon for you? I have loads of exciting paperwork. But at least nobody wants me to test my,” Jack waggled his fingers in the air, making quotation signs, “superior gene.” 

Daniel gave Jack a look of sympathy. Since they had returned from Honduras, the Tok'ra and Sam had dragged Jack into a lab several times to test some new ancient technology. And Janet had drawn blood from Jack and done god knew what kind of tests with it. Daniel knew he would be exhilarated if he had the ancient gene. The things he would be able to do with it... who knew what fascinating ancient technology they might find in the future? Of course the whole process of making technology work with only mind power was a little scary, too. But Anubis was partly ascended and if Daniel had some of his powers he would feel more equal to him and less like an insignificant little boy.

However, Jack being Jack he really didn't appreciate his new ability and didn't seem to try very hard to hone this skill. He had been able to make both devices the Tok'ra brought him work. One was a sealed “book” which revealed pages and pages of ancient text when Jack touched the surface of the tablet. It turned out the content of said book was the diary of an ancient man who was seeking ascension. The Daniels were still working on the translation. The other device was a small power source, but Sam wasn't sure what it had been used for. It didn't generate enough energy to power huge honkin' space guns or anything significant. Jack suspected it was some sort of battery re-charge device.

“We have to leave early because of my appointment with Svenson,” Daniel reminded Jack, then added hastily, “Though, we can cancel and reschedule if you have too much to do with your exciting paperwork.” 

Jack started clearing the table. “Any reason you want to reschedule?”

“Nooo, I just don't want you to get behind on your paperwork on my account.”

Brown eyes met blue ones and Daniel knew he was busted. He placed his elbows on the table and propped his chin into his hands. “I sorta forgot to do my assignment for today,” he muttered.

“Sorta?” Jack's left scarred eyebrow climbed upwards. 

“Uh-huh.” 

Jack put his bowl and mug into the dishwasher and Daniel handed him his plate to put it in as well. “I forgot a book up at the tree house,” he said. “I'll be right back.”

“Is this something we need to talk about?” Jack asked quietly. 

“Nope. I'll do the assignment after lunch,” Daniel hurried to assure his guardian. “I just didn't have the time.” 

“Sorta.” 

“Um, yeah.” Pushing his glasses up his nose Daniel made a beeline out of the kitchen to avoid nosy questions. He briefly wondered why he had mentioned the assignment in the first place. He should have kept quiet about it. For some reason it became more and more difficult to hide things from Jack. Feelings, thoughts, secrets... Daniel sometimes felt like he was an open book to his friend. Even more now than he used to be before. 

“You better hurry or we'll be late,” Jack called after him. 

Daniel jumped down the two steps into the living room, and opened the glass door to the deck. The trees and bushes sported a dress of green leaves. In the front yard the roses were in full bloom and it was already warming up to be a hot summer day.

He skipped down the deck and ran across the lawn to where his tree house was sitting on a platform carried by four oaks.

There was a small stairway going up to the house, which made it a lot easier to carry up books or his laptop than a ladder would. Sam had done a great job in figuring out all the static issues for the tree house and they all had worked hard to make it happen. Well, the grown ups had. Daniel only did what he could at his current size.

He got out his key and pushed it into the lock at his door. It was a secure lock, but if someone really wanted to get in, it wouldn't hold them back. There was no alarm system at the tree house either since there was no electricity up here. The door stuck a little and he had to rattle at the knob before it finally sprang open. He wondered briefly about it because the door had been fine two days ago when he had spent the early evening here with a book. He made a mental note to ask Jack to check the lock over the weekend.

A look at his watch made him hurry in and grab the book sitting on the small table in front of his old couch. On his way back out the door he almost stepped on something lying on the floor. Frowning, Daniel picked up what appeared to be a small green plastic card. It was a little bent, like someone had twisted it to one side and then the other.

A Barnes and Noble gift card.

“That's odd,” he mumbled, turning the card over in his hands. He didn't have a gift card for Barnes and Noble at the moment.

Did Jack have one and lose it? But they hadn't been up here together this week and Jack never came alone. He had an emergency key, but as far as Daniel knew had never used it before.

He looked around and suddenly his eye caught a throw pillow and the blue quilt Janet and Cass had given him for his last birthday. Both items, usually piled up on the couch, were now carelessly dumped on the wooden floor. Daniel wasn't the most tidy person and didn't always rearrange his things as they were when he left the house. But he was sure he hadn’t left the blanket or cushion on the floor last time he left.

Then there was the rucksack.

It had been dumped into a corner.

Daniel felt his hands go sweaty and his heart skip a beat at the sight.

Someone had been here.

He stood rooted to the spot, his book clutched in both hands, staring at the backpack.

It could be a bomb, a stun grenade, a...

“It's a bag, you idiot,” he whispered to himself, taking in the plain black rucksack with the words JanSport embroidered into it. 

It could still be a bomb or a stun grenade in it... if the NID had placed this in here...

“Why would the NID want to blow up my tree house,” Daniel said a little louder now. 

So, a stun grenade to knock him out so they could take him?

“No. The stun grenade only works if turned on. And then it would stun me right away. It can't be set up for later.” Daniel blinked and shook his head, trying to process what he saw even as he reached these rational conclusions.

Someone had broken into his tree house.

Into HIS tree house.

A place he thought of as safe and private.

There was no damage and nothing seemed to be stolen – at least not at first sight. But still ... Somebody had come up here, opened the lock with a Barnes and Noble gift card... and forgot his bag when he left.

Or she.

Some kid. At least he assumed it was some kid's bag. Now that he was paying attention, Daniel spotted a Twinkie wrapper on the table and something that looked like a colorful foil. He picked it up with two fingers and took a closer look. It was an empty bag for Harry Potter trading cards.

“Daniel! If you don't get down here ASAP, we'll be late!” Jack's voice hollered up from outside.

“I...” Daniel squeaked, then swallowed and yelled. “I'll be right there!” 

He walked over to the bag and crouched in front of it. Biting his lip Daniel poked at it with his book. It didn't jump or ran away. He snorted a little. As if a backpack could run. Yet, he couldn’t keep his hands from trembling slightly as he got hold on the bag and pulled down the zipper.

“Daniel!” Jack was starting to sound annoyed.

He'd come up the stairs any minute now.

Daniel gazed at a laptop, a bunch of notebooks and a pencil case.

“Coming!” he yelled.

He closed the bag and pushed it under the couch, determined to examine it later, then took his book and stormed out, slamming the front door shut.

Jack waited at the bottom of the stairs, arms crossed over his chest, frowning. “What took you so long?”

“Couldn't find the book.” The lie was out so quick, Daniel couldn't hold it back. He lowered his head and ran to the truck which was parked in the driveway.

Soon they were on the road and Daniel tried to get his fast beating heart under control and to appear unfazed and calm. Fortunately Jack was too busy fiddling with the radio, trying to find a good channel, to notice something was up. Jack had incredible spidery senses if he put his mind to it.

Daniel knew he would be in trouble with a capital T if he didn't tell Jack what happened at the tree house. And he would tell him. Later. For now he was putting the puzzle together in his head and what he got was a relatively clear picture of what must have happened. Those kids from last night had bullied another kid and that other kid hid away in Jack's yard, found the tree house and went up there to become invisible to his tormentors. Later when he thought it was safe, he had made a fast retreat and forgot his school bag.

So nobody was after Daniel, which should calm him down immediately, right?

But he could hear Jack's voice in his head. If one little kid could get into the tree house, guess how easy it’d be for the bad guys?

And yet, those ‘bad guys’ had never tried their luck, Daniel thought stubbornly. If he told Jack someone had broken into the tree house, he'd probably find a guard at the door in the future.

Still he knew he had to tell Jack.

Yuck.

 

Once the meetings for the archaeological department were over, Daniel spent the rest of his morning with BD.

After two hours of concentrated work, he felt his attention slip.

“Can we take a break?” He rubbed his eyes.

The writings on the scrolls were tiny and gazing through the magnifier glass made his eyes itch. The material of the scroll, however, didn't allow scanning or filming the text to put it on the computer. So they were stuck with the old fashioned way of reading it from the scroll and writing the translation down.

BD nodded. “I could use a coffee.” He refilled his mug, getting another one for Daniel as well.

Hopping from his desk char, Daniel stretched his back and took his yo yo from his desk. BD settled on the couch and watched Daniel zip the little toy up and down and then let it sleep at the bottom. “You're good at this,” he observed.

“It's fun. I could show you.”

His adult self hesitated. “Maybe some other time.”

“Hey, I can do it – you can do it, too,” Daniel said. “It's not a big deal. You probably already can and just forgot. Jack taught me how to do it when we were in Egypt.”

BD pursed his lips. “You think he showed me too, then? And I just don't remember?”

“Yeah.”

“That makes sense,” BD mumbled and took the yo yo when Daniel handed it to him. He stood and made a tentative move. The yo yo bounced once and rolled down to the bottom. 

Daniel remembered how Jack had instructed him on the proper handling of a yo yo and did the same with BD now. And like himself, his adult version got the hang of it quickly.

“You should get one for yourself and we can...” Daniel only hesitated for a moment before he continued, “play together.”

“You think?” BD made the yo yo jump and roll down, then pulled it up again. “We should show Sam and Teal'c. Then we can have a team competition on who can let it sleep the longest.”

Daniel laughed and said, “Teal'c. I bet Teal'c can. Followed by Jack.”

“I'm in on that one.” BD grinned.

Daniel took the yo yo back and placed it into his top desk drawer. Then, on the spur of a moment, he turned to BD. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” 

“Doctor Svenson thinks I'm having second thoughts about the bike.”

Gazing at Daniel over the rim of his coffee mug, BD raised his eyebrows. “And, do you?”

He drew in a deep breath. “I... guess so.”

“Why?”

“I'm not sure. It's obvious Jack's freaking about the whole bike thing. And Hammond needs to be informed and it's... I dunno. Probably just not worth all the stir ups.”

“Did he talk to Hammond yet?”

“I don't know.” Daniel cradled his coffee mug between his hands as he sat down next to BD. “I didn't ask and he didn't... say anything. But I think he talked to Svenson about his issues.” He took a deep breath. “Daniel, what if I have the bike and then get into trouble? What if... even though I don't mean to... something bad happens? I just gained back his trust, at least I think so. What if I screw up. Or the NID REALLY tries to kidnap me?”

“I don't think Jack would hold you responsible if the NID kidnaps you,” BD said mildly. 

“No, but...”

“Aaand,” BD's eyebrows rose again. “I don't think that, no matter how brilliant your manipulative skills are, he would have let you talk him into saying yes if he really thinks he can't trust you.”

“That's just the point. What if I'm not worth that trust? In the long run, I mean?”

BD looked puzzled. “I don't know, Daniel. I guess all you can do is try your best. I think that's all Jack's asking for, too.”

Daniel gazed into his coffee.

A knock interrupted his thoughts and Jack's graying head appeared in the open door. “Hey, kids, time for lunch.”

***

Jack had been right. There was fish on the menu plus a burger, potato pockets filled with cheese and salad on the side. Carter chose the fish, Jack, LD and BD the burger. Teal'c started with the fish and then worked his way through the burger, potato pockets and salad, finishing with green jell-o.

“So, Carter,” Jack said, poking at his burger with a fork. “You still hiding from Felger?”

BD snorted. Daniel and Teal'c remained focused on their lunch.

Carter swallowed down her mouthful of rice which had come with the fish. “No sir,” she muttered. “I think he finally gave up on trying to stalk me.”

“He better,” Jack muttered. He knew Carter could take care of herself and Felger was harmless. But that nerd better backed off if he didn't want to have all of SG-1 breathing down his neck. 

“He's much nicer than Rodney MacKay,” BD observed politely. 

“Yeah, but he has this action figure of Carter...” Jack started.

“He has action figures of all of us,” Carter clarified sharply. “God, why did I tell you about that?”

“Oh, I don't want to know what he does with Jack-doll and Carter-doll,” Jack groused. 

“Well, sir, maybe he plays with Jack-doll and Danny-doll, too,” Carter said with a toothy smile. 

BD choked on a mouthful of his lunch and lunged for his glass of water. Coughing, he spluttered. “That's just...”

“Yeah.” Jack smacked him on the back. “Need a Heimlich Maneuver there, Jackson?”

“Just so you know.” Carter held up her fork and pointed it at Jack and BD. “Doctor Felger is a nice guy. He's just very...” She dropped her voice, “eager. Focused. Confused. Ambitious.”

“Nerdy?” Jack helped.

“Yes,” she huffed. “Thank you, sir.”

“At least he means well. And it could have worked. That new plasma weapon of his.” BD shrugged.

“Yeah. Too bad it sucked out all the base's power instead of blasting a hole in that concrete block Felger used for testing it,” Jack said. He had been there when the good scientist insisted he had invented a big honkin' space gun. 

It had taken some time until the base had regular power again and Hammond had been about to give Felger the boot. Jack had highly recommended it, too. But then Felger had come up with news about a great new project. A computer virus which would allow the SGC to disable any Stargate in the network. After much “calmly verbalized protest” from Jack – okay, he had yelled, but he was 2IC of this base after all – and much thinking on Hammond's part they’d recruited Carter to work with Felger on his project.

“It was an ingenious idea Felger came up with.” Carter said. “There was no way of knowing the virus would trigger a system-wide update through all the DHDs and shut down all gates on the network, instead of just disabling that one gate we tested it on. We worked well together even. It was,” she shrugged, “fun. A challenge. And he had worked it out, mostly. And in the end he figured out the anti virus. With a little help from me.”

“Plus, it turned out the screw up wasn't Felger's fault at all. Ba'al had altered Avenger to destroy the network of gates,” BD reminded them. “It was an unfortunate series of events.”

“Yeah. That Ba'al fella is beginning to go on my nerves a bit,” Jack growled.

“Are you not grateful he destroyed Anubis's ship, O'Neill?” Teal'c asked, face straight.

“Are you being sarcastic, T?”

T merely raised his eyebrow.

While their lunch conversation moved on to other topics Jack watched their youngest team member... yes, he still thought of SG-1 being his team even though it was Carter's team now... picking at his food and obviously being miles away from the here and now. He hadn't even joined in on the usual banter earlier.

Jack didn't like how tired his kid looked. The little guy was probably still puzzling over this translation. Jack would be more than happy when this project was done and over with. Daniel spent way too much time at work lately. However, remembering their conversation this morning, he wondered if the appointment with Doc Svenson and the “sort of forgotten” assignment had something to do with this subdued absent behavior.

Daniel excused himself before everyone else was done with their lunch, saying he had work to do, and made a beeline out the door.

Carter, who was savoring her blue jell-o now, raised her eyebrows. “Is he alright?”

“Just lots of work, I guess.” BD shrugged.

“We're leaving early today, so he probably thinks he needs to get as much covered as possible,” Jack said. 

“When can I pick him up tomorrow?” Carter asked. “For our trip to the museum?”

“Anytime you want. Better ask him when he wants you to come over. If you bring bagels you can join us for breakfast,” Jack suggested.

Carter was going to take Daniel to the Rocky Mountain Motorcycle museum and lunch afterward. Then they would spend the afternoon at her place watching Star Wars with Teal'c. Jack was looking forward to the kid's report on the Motorcycle museum. He would have joined them, but had some errands to run.

Besides, Carter was probably looking forward to spending some quality time alone with the Wretch to spoil him rotten. Regarding their destination Jack suspected Daniel humored her. She was the motorcycle fan and it was apparently her turn to choose the activity of the day.

”I'll talk to Daniel about the time and bring the bagels. I have to go.” She got up and waved at them. “See you later guys.”

Teal'c followed soon, informing them he had a boxing appointment in the gym.

“Be careful, T,” Jack said, then added, “No wait, strike that. Tell the other guys to be careful.”

“I shall do so,” Teal'c replied, an amused twinkle in his eyes.

“I had no idea Colorado Springs has a motorcycle museum,” BD said amazed when they were alone.

“Cool, eh? Lots of old Harleys and stuff about the history of motorcycling. Did you know, there's a Figure skating museum in the Springs, too?” 

“There is?”

“Yep. Right in the Hall of Fame.” 

“I had no idea you're into figure skating,” Big Daniel said, eyes innocent and wide.

“Funny,” Jack growled as they made their way out of the commissary. 

  
Two hours later he left General Hammond's office and headed for Daniel's to pick him up for his appointment with the Doc. He considered telling his kid Hammond had granted the bike, but Daniel's birthday was only a week away and Jack figured it'd be a neat surprise.

Or maybe he was just trying to put this conversation off as long as possible.

Jack scowled at the closed elevator door. Okay, yeah, he admitted it. Part of him had thought... hoped... Hammond might put a stop to the bike thing, what with the security risk of having a downsized Daniel Jackson riding his bike alone in the Springs. Because that was what Daniel wanted. Bike trips with good old Jack were fine and dandy. But hey, he was eight, almost nine, and shouldn't he have some freedom by now? When they had started to discuss this, it had turned out Daniel had big plans. He could take his bike to get to the next bus station and ride the bus to the mall, to the library...

Little Daniel had mapped it all out in his head quite neatly. Which bus he'd have to take to go where, how long it would take him to get to the nearest bus station on his bike (really Jack, it's very simple, not even many big streets to cross. And all the big streets have traffic lights...

Jack had flatly refused to give Daniel a bike.

Only his team had ganged up on him, telling him they'd get Daniel a bike if he wouldn't. And the little guy had been shattered. Heartbroken, really. Manipulative little...

Svenson had latched right onto the idea, thinking it was a great break through on oh-so-many levels. She had prattled on about trust issues, opportunities to expand Daniel's mobility, Jack's chance to work on letting go and overcome his overprotective streak... yadda.

It would speed up the process of Jack's hair turning completely white for sure.

When they had been through all the verbal sparing rounds about why Jack didn't want to give Daniel a bike and why Daniel really needed a bike to stay mentally healthy – his words exactly – they ended up with a compromise. If Hammond granted it security wise, Daniel would get his bike and Jack would make the rules. Daniel would comply with said rules and if he didn't the bike would be gone.

Oh, Jack was so looking forward to discussing rules and regulations with Daniel. Not. Because he didn’t kid himself. He'd make up the rules and the kidlet would argue about them. And Jack would probably end up making more compromises than he was originally willing to do.

So, yeah, he had tried to chicken out by giving Hammond the final say on this.

“Way to go, Jack,” he muttered, glaring at the airman that exited the car when the elevator finally arrived. Swiping his ID card through the slot and pushing his destination level, Jack grimaced. 

Sure, he'd had to run this by Hammond anyway so it wasn't just a stalling tactic. Young Daniel Jackson O'Neill carried sensitive material around in his blond head. Not to mention those memories and classified knowledge.

And what did Hammond do?

Instead of hearing Jack's telepathic signal to just say no and refuse to even discuss this, the general had looked at him and asked. “What do you think, Colonel?”

Well, d'oh.

“I think it's a risk,” Jack had carefully replied. He had wanted to say a lot more. But what had come out of his mouth was, “Doctor Svenson thinks it's important for Daniel to move on. It'll help him to explore his new childhood. The bike is a leftover dream of his first one and the Doc says re-living parts of his first childhood might help him to overcome some of the issues he carries around from back then.”

”I understand he will lose his childhood memories – from this time around – once he returns to his adult self. How will working through these issues now help him once he is grown up again?”

“Svenson says he'll feel the changes subconsciously even though he won't remember,” Jack had said wondering if he could sue his own mouth for treason. 

Hammond had nodded and given his 2IC a thoughtful look. “Neither the NID nor The Trust have tried to approach Daniel in any way except for the one incident in Egypt. And that wasn't directed at Daniel, but at the artifact which is supposed to re-size him one day. It could very well be that they are still watching you though. And if they find out Daniel is leaving the house on his own they might try to get him.”

“That's my assessment as well, sir,” Jack had agreed. Then his mouth had tricked him again. “I'm keeping my eyes open though. It doesn't seem to be likely they're still watching us. The house is clean, too. I'd know if someone was in there. And I'm doing sweeps on a regular basis.”

Hammond had folded his hands on the pile of reports on his desk. “They have their hands full with other things, I suppose. You'll probably hear a lot from the NID once Homeworld Security leaves the ground. They’re already demanding to have a say in certain things.”

“I know, sir. I wish they wouldn't stick their collective noses into everything we do.”

“Yes, me too.” Hammond had shaken his head. “Sometimes dealing with the NID is worse than kindergarten.”

“I beg to differ, sir. I do like kids.” 

Hammond had given him a lopsided smile. “Speaking of kids... Jack, I suppose we can let Daniel have his bike if we take certain precautions. But this really is your call. Do you think he's ready for this without getting into serious trouble? I know he can be a handful at times.”

Make that; Was Jack ready to take the responsibility for anything that might occur if Daniel ventured out there on his own?

Was he?

”I already gave my okay provided you wouldn't deny it for security reasons, sir,” Jack had said, knowing he was doomed. 

But over the course of the last couple of months there had been a certain change in Daniel's attitude and Jack couldn't just dismiss the fact that his little guy seemed to be more level headed and a lot less on the edge with every passing month. When Jack had to leave the kid with Rogelio in Honduras he had trusted Daniel to act reasonable and not to follow him and Jackson through those skulls. Daniel had rewarded that trust with staying put and keeping his head down.

If that wasn't a major break-through, then Jack didn't know what was. For Daniel – at any age – being condemned to do nothing and stay put was like torture. Sure, he had proved this kind of maturity before. In Egypt when they had dealt with Pierson. And in Antarctica. And while following Jack and Jackson to Abydos had been a reckless act in itself, the outcome had been worth all the new gray hairs on Jack's head.

Daniel was a resourceful little brat. He could probably hold his own for a while even if he was kidnapped.

Why didn't that thought make Jack feel better?

“Daniel is a matter of national security so I need to actually discuss this with my own superiors,” Hammond had finally decided. “But it shouldn't be a problem. He has to agree to wear a GPS though. In case we have to track him quickly.”

Jack hadn't thought any less. In fact he'd already told Daniel it would probably come down to that. The Wretch had been grumpy, but admitted he had expected it, too.

Shaking off all his worries, he gave Daniel's open office door a tentative knock and sauntered in to find both his Daniels hunched over the desk, gazing through magnifier glasses at some scroll.

“This means they want the right to step back from this treaty at any time they feel we are not worthy anymore,” LD said.

“So, that gives them all the rights and we can mine there only as long as they feel like letting us.” BD rubbed his eyes. “Tough choice.”

Flyboy, who was sprawled on the couch, taking up all the space, raised his head and gave Jack a lazy wag of his tail, but wasn’t willing to leave his cozy place. “This dog gets spoiled more and more each day,” Jack muttered with affection, nudging him aside. “Move it. There's space for two.”

The big dog managed to twist and curl himself into a new position without falling off the couch when Jack settled down next to him, absently scratching him behind the black pointed ears. “Are you ready to go, Daniel?”

“In a minute.”

“You have five.” Jack stretched his legs, grimacing as his knees creaked. 

Jackson glanced back over his shoulder, a sympathetic expression on his face. “Hey, Jack.”

“How's it going?”

“Oh, we'll be done in time.”

“Sweet.” Jack half expected the kid to try and talk him into canceling the appointment to get another late-work day. But a moment later Daniel slid from his chair, stuffed various notes and books into his backpack and announced he was ready to leave.

Jack dropped the kid and his black beast off with the doc and went grocery shopping, rolling his eyes at Daniel's long list of different candy bars, coffee blends and pop tarts. He chose one coffee out of three Daniel had scribbled down, picked one of each candy bars and found the blueberry pop tarts. To balance out the sweet tooth Jack added plenty of fruit, vegetables and some other things the kid liked as well. Gotta keep a healthy diet here. After throwing a six pack of Heineken into his cart – if Daniel could have candy Jack could have beer - he waited at the check out, watching a group of pre-teens just in front of him.

The three girls were reading some magazine, giggling over something and nudging each other. One of them kept blowing bubbles with her gum and each time it popped they snickered. Then they reached the check out, paid for the magazine and left, still snickering and yakking. Jack had to grin at the harmless silly fun those kids had.

He suddenly remembered the kids from the street last night and Daniel's strong reaction to them. Briefly wondering what story was hidden behind door number six and if he would ever hear about it, Jack paid and collected his items.

Daniel was waiting for him in Svenson's little sitting area when Jack entered the office. “She already has her next patient,” the kid informed Jack, then in almost one breath continued, “She asked me about my birthday party.”

Jack held the front door open for kid and dog to trudge out to the truck. “What about it?”

Daniel and Flyboy clambered into the truck, dog in the back, kid in the front. “I don't know. She asked whom I'll invite and what we're going to do. Do you think she expects me to invite her? Do you think she'd be sad if I don't?”

“I think it's up to you whether you want to invite her or not.”

“I'd rather not. But I don't want to hurt her feelings.”

“Daniel, it's your party. She's your psychologist not your...” He trailed off and gave Daniel a sidewards glance. “Do you consider her your friend?”

“She's nice.”

“Yes, she is. That's doesn’t answer the question though. Lots of people are nice.”

Daniel pulled off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay. I don't. I'd feel like I have to watch myself all the time if she was there.” He grimaced. “I like her. But sometimes I don't know when she's just doing small talk and when she's up to something. Then again, she's a shrink, she probably never does just small talk.”

“Probably not.” 

He gnawed on his bottom lip and put his glasses back on. “Jack?”

“Daniel?”

He didn't say anything else, just gazed out the window and Jack patiently waited while they were driving home. When they turned into their neighborhood Daniel started playing with the zipper of his backpack. Jack could hear the wheels in that little head turn, but he bit back the prompting and concentrated on the traffic. If Daniel wanted to talk about something he would do so in his own good time. Or not.

“Do you mind if I go to the tree house right away? I need to think about... things.”

“I don't mind as long as you’re coming down for dinner.” Jack was positive that wasn't what Daniel originally wanted to say. But the kid sometimes went to his tree house after his appointments with the doc to process whatever they had been talking about. So whatever was on his mind would probably be mulled over properly now and later revealed to Jack over dinner. 

Once they had carried in the groceries, Daniel fired his backpack into the kitchen corner and made a beeline for the garden. “Dinner is at seven,” Jack called after him, closing the back door behind the dog. “And why bother to put your things away first,” he muttered, scowling at the pack.

***

Daniel slammed the tree house door shut behind him and crouched to his knees, fishing under the small couch with one hand until his fingers closed around the straps of the school bag. With a little huff he pulled it out and brushed off a bit of dust.

A close examination revealed that the bag looked rather new. Daniel sifted through its contents, feeling slightly bad about going through someone else’s things without permission. He treasured his privacy and wouldn't be happy if he knew someone rummaged around in his stuff. But he was trying to find the owner's name... there... a library card.

“Alistair Miller,” Daniel read aloud. “Oh, the name alone cries for bullying.” He found the name of an elementary school on the card but not much more information. He didn't find a student ID or anything else. But a pack of Harry Potter trading cards. Absently looking through them, Daniel thought it'd be cool if the pictures would really move around and interact like they did in the books. 

Outside he heard Jack call for Flyboy to come in. There was some happy barking and then the back door was slammed shut. A look at his watch reassured Daniel he still had an hour left until dinner.

What was he going to do? Leave the bag here in the hopes that its owner would return and retrieve it at some point? Take it into the house with him and tell Jack all about it? They could call the library to find out Alistair Miller’s address and call the parents to come by and get the bag. Well, Daniel knew the latter was the required and simplest choice of action. However, his eight year old self remembered how complicated things could get when parents were involved.

If they called the Millers, Alistair could be in a whole lot of trouble for hiding away in someone else's backyard, for forgetting his school bag, for being out on the streets so late, for letting himself being bullied... Daniel bit his lip, trying to fight off the memories of his own unfortunate encounter with bullies and the adult's reaction to it.

Mr. and Mrs. Miller were probably very nice and understanding people.

Hopefully.

But what if...

Groaning, and caught in resurfacing memories he had so neatly buried somewhere deep inside himself, Daniel's fingers went numb and the library card slipped to the ground.

It had happened a long time ago. It was no big deal. He was safe and Jack was down in the house, making dinner. Happy thoughts. He had to think good thoughts. How he would go down to eat and play with Flyboy and watch TV with Jack and...

A noise at the tree house door startled him. Daniel stared at the slowly moving door. He backed off from the couch to the far wall of the room as the door opened...

...and an equally shocked pair of green eyes gazed back at him.

Frozen in time the two boys gaped at one another, not sure what to do or to say. Finally it was Daniel who blinked and uttered a, “Uh, hi.”

“I was just...” the other kid squeaked.

“Your...” Daniel gestured at the bag and its contents on the couch. 

The small boy squeezed himself through the door and quickly closed it behind himself. Then he stayed where he was, his back pressed against the door. “You didn't take anything, did you?” A dark but nervous glare accompanied the question. “This is my stuff.”

“No. I was just trying to figure out whom it belonged to.” Daniel didn't move either.

“It's mine.” The boy glanced over at the couch. “I want it back.”

“Sure. I'm... um... Daniel. You must be Alistair then. I, uh, found your library card.”

“Don't move,” Alistair snapped, his voice trembling. “You're not bigger than I am. I can knock you down. I just want my bag. Leave me alone.” He scurried over to the couch and, never taking his eyes off Daniel, started to hastily collect his library card and notebooks and pushed them into his bag. 

“I won't harm you in any way,” Daniel said, holding up his hands in a calming manner. “But this is my house and you broke in here. I had to look at your stuff.” When his phone beeped, both kids froze again for a moment. Reaching into his jeans pocket, Daniel said. “That's ok. That's just...” He fingered his phone out and answered the call. “Jack?”

“Are you okay up there? The dog is twitchy. I'm gonna take a look around. Might just be Trevor's cat.”

“I'm fine,” Daniel replied. 

“Stay where you are. It's probably nothing. I'll call you back.” Jack disconnected and Daniel let out a huff of air. 

The other boy was sitting on the couch, hands clutched around his bag. He had light brown hair, was skinny and not very tall. Daniel thought they might be equal in size. He was wearing a red t-shirt, blue jeans and black sneakers.

“Um, that was Jack. The dog must've heard you sneaking up here,” Daniel said gesturing at the front door. 

For a moment the other kid looked frightened. “Are you going to sic your dog on me?”

“No, why would I do that?” Daniel asked in astonishment. “He's a good dog. He's just very protective.”

“I don't like dogs,” Alistair muttered. “They’re furry and stink and slobber. And they don't like me either.”

“My dog is great,” Daniel insisted, a flicker of childish anger surging through him at the dismissive comment from the other boy.

“Of course you would say that. He's your dog.” Alistair grimaced. 

“Well, yes. You don't even know my dog. How can you say you don't like him if you haven't even seen him?” Daniel crossed his arms over his chest and scowled at the kid.

Alistair shrugged. “I've heard him. He's loud.” He slowly got up and grabbed his bag. “I'll go now.”

“Wait until the dog is back in the house if you don't want to be caught by Jack.”

“Is Jack your dad?”

“Something like that.” 

“You're adopted.” There was no resentment or judgment in that statement.

“Yeah.”

“What...”

Rolling his eyes, Daniel cut him off. “Can we not talk about this?”

Alistair shrugged again. “I haven't seen you at school or around the neighborhood. Did you just move here?”

Daniel sighed. “If you have to know...”

The kid on the couch blushed. “I'm asking stupid questions, huh?”

Remembering he was a diplomat and a grown up in a kid's body, Daniel refrained from wrinkling his nose and agreeing. Instead he crossed the room and sat down next to Al. “It's okay. I'm sorry. I'm just not used to,” he paused, then let out another sigh, “having other kids around me.”

“I don't usually talk to other kids much,” Al offered. “Only to make them leave me alone.”

“Oh,” Daniel said softly, an old long forgotten feeling of lonesomeness spiking through him at the familiarity of this boy's simple revelation. “Does it work? Do they leave you alone?”

“Mostly. Just not the older kids.”

“Were they after you last night?”

Blushing even harder and lowering his face, Al hugged his pack to his chest. “They're always after me.” Then his head jerked up and he glared at Daniel. “Why am I telling you all this? It's none of your business.”

“Sometimes talking helps,” Daniel said. How often had he longed for someone he could talk to when he'd been bullied and beaten up. How he had longed for someone to help him through this, to have someone who'd at least listen to him... but he learned the hard way that there hadn’t been anyone. And Daniel had learned not to trust anyone by the time the social workers had finally taken him away. 

“It doesn't change anything,” Alistair said as he looked thoughtfully at Daniel. Suddenly he blurted out. “You're an outsider like me. You won't bully me or sic your dog after me, right?”

Daniel blinked. “Wha...?”

“Because you know what's it like. You're being bullied too. You're a geek, like me.” Alistair gazed at Daniel an almost triumphant grin on his face. 

Daniel's phone beeped. Numbly he pulled it from his jeans. “Jack?”

“All clear. The cat decided to take a stroll through our yard and your dog almost had her for lunch. Dinner is ready.”

“Okay. I'll be right there,” Daniel replied hastily and disconnected. To Al he said. “The dog is in the house now. Wait till I'm inside and then leave quickly.”

“Can I come up here again if they chase me?” Al asked shyly. 

Daniel opened his mouth to say no, but in the end he couldn't. He had seen too much of himself in this boy. Too much of what he'd been through in his first childhood. “You should talk to someone,” he said. “What about your mom and dad? Don't they know?” Oh, this was great. He wouldn't have followed his own advice if he was still really eight.

“They're at work. They don't really have much time,” Alistair said matter of fact. 

“I see. Look, you can't come here when we're home. Flyboy... that's my dog... will alert Jack. And Jack's military so he won't be fooled for long. We... We're gone during the day though. So you could come here when nobody's home. We won't be back until four or five in the afternoon, sometimes even later.” Daniel cringed at the thought of some strange kid hiding out in his tree house while he was at the mountain. But if he could help to make the other boy feel safe and give him a place to be undisturbed... Daniel didn't need the tree house when he wasn't home.

“You're not going away for the summer?” Alistair asked.

“Uh, nope. Jack doesn't have leave so I go to work with him.”

“To Cheyenne Mountain?” Al's eyes were big as saucers now. 

“Yeah.”

“Wow. Cool.”

Daniel pushed his glasses into place and forced out a grin. “Look, I gotta go have dinner... Only Jack has a spare key for the tree house, but you had no trouble getting in before so that shouldn't be an issue.” He took a deep breath. “Just... don't take any of my stuff, okay? You can read my books as long as you put them away.”

Alistair eyed the stuffed book shelve. “I'll bring my laptop, thanks. I won't take any of your things.”

“And don't leave anything here either. Jack sometimes comes up with me...” Daniel trailed off. What was he doing? He couldn't just invite that kid to use his tree house. It was no solution. “You really should do something about those bullies,” he blurted out.

Alistair snorted. “You're talking like an adult, you know that? Do something about them. Talk to someone. Nobody's gonna listen. And they're bigger and mean. They're goons.” So much resignation. And yet Daniel knew Alistair was right. This was how the real world was.

There were normal kids. And then there were kids who bullied and kids who were bullied. There was some secret code that stamped you as being one or the other. And bullies always were drawn to their victims and vise versa. It's always been that way and always would be. Balance of power one of his foster dads had called it.

Daniel needed to get out of here.

He shrugged and mumbled, “I have to go.” With a last look at the other boy he hurried out of the tree house and down the stairs.

  
  


This week Jack's kitchen duty was to cook and Daniel's was to do dishes and set the table. He preferred to do the cooking. He liked cooking and with the multi-task-kitchen helper he could prepare almost anything without needing much help.

It smelled like hot dogs. Jack's hot dogs were legendary like his pancakes and unlike his burnt steaks. The aroma of chili, cheddar and onions that usually made Daniel's mouth water caused him to feel nauseous today.

He mumbled an apology for being late and set the table. He retrieved orange juice for himself and a beer for Jack from the fridge, got a glass for himself and went to look for napkins. His mind was wandering in two different directions at once. The boy at the tree house and his problems and Daniel's own memories trying to fight their way to the surface.

Jack was still at the stove flipping the hot dogs and toppings in the pan. Flyboy was scratching at the back door, demanding to go out, growling and yelping in turns.

“Knock it off, buddy,” Jack said. “You can't eat that cat. Ask Daniel, he'll tell you that every being has a right to live. Even fat old cats.”

He flourishly put the hot dogs on the prepared buns and topped them with chili and cheddar cheese, then sprinkled crushed corn chips on them. “Two super duper delicious chili dogs for table six,” he hollered.

Despite his racing thoughts and the slight sick feeling in his stomach, Daniel had to grin as he carried the loaded plates over, one by one. As they sat at the kitchen table, Flyboy left his post at the door and planted himself next to Daniel's chair, huge brown eyes pleading for a piece of hot dog.

Apparently Alistair Miller had left the building.

A wave of relief rushed through Daniel and he relaxed instantly, only a niggling uneasiness lingering. They ate their hot dogs which was always messy because Jack was so generous with the chili and cheese. Soon their fingers were sticky and even Jack had managed to land a splotch of hot chili on his navy blue shirt. It was spicy and good and Daniel got his appetite back.

After dinner they cleared the table together and then Jack left him to do the dishes. As he was rinsing plates and putting them into the dishwasher while the pan was soaking in the sink, Daniel tried not to work himself up again over Alistair showing up in his tree house. Instead he focused on tomorrow and his trip to the museum with Sam. He didn't particularly care for motorcycles, but it was Sam's turn to choose and he'd have fun anyway.


	2. How Daniel Jackson O'Neill beat the Devil II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Karen for the help with Gaellic words

**III**

Gaelic words:

Tóg bog é!” (Take it easy)

bómánta (stupid)

  
  


Breakfast had been nice with the bagels and strawberry jam Carter contributed. Daniel had slugged away two mugs of coffee, had happily eaten two bagels and was now happily playing with the dog in the yard while Jack and Carter finished their coffee on the deck.

It was hot already and according to the forecast it was going to get even hotter during the day.

“We'll have lunch on our way back from the museum,” Carter said. “Then take a detour to the mountain to pick up Teal'c. We should be at my place around 13:00.”

“When do you want me to pick him up?”

Usually Carter would say Daniel could stay as long as he wanted to. Today, however, she quickly answered. “Would 18:00 be okay, sir?”

“Sure. Any plans for the evening?”

“Um, actually, yes.”

“Nice.” When she didn't come forth and reveal her plans, he gave her a curious look and she actually blushed. What was up with that? 

“You won't need more time to get back from Boulder, right? I mean if 18:00 is too early...”

“Nope, it’s fine.”

“Does he know you're getting the bike?” She dropped her voice, but Jack doubted Daniel would have heard her even if she'd yelled. He and the black beast were still louder.

“Nope, didn't tell him. He thinks I'm gonna do garden work and laundry.”

He'd wanted to take Jackson with him, but he was off-world with SG-11 today and Jack knew SG-1 was scheduled to go off world tomorrow so the guy was booked for the weekend. Jackson had taken his place on the team without much fuss from anyone. Hammond had been more than ready to give him that badge and Washington couldn't bring up enough valid points against it.

The kid had been great about it, even encouraged Jackson to fill the gap Baxter had left.

Jack had waited for the other shoe to drop, but it never did. He tried to take this with a grain of salt, but Daniel seemed to really be fine with his adult self joining the team.

“He'll be one happy guy,” Carter said with a grin.

“Oh, ye-ah.” Jack watched boy and dog chasing after sticks. Who exactly was chasing the stick? Daniel or the dog. Never mind.

“Sir, he'll be fine.”

“I know.” And she was probably right.

Later when Daniel had put sun block on his arms, neck and face, he snatched his pack from the kitchen table and gave Jack a cheeky grin. “Don't drink too much beer when working in the garden. You still have to pick me up at Sam's.”

“Smart ass,” Jack said affectionately, jamming a baseball cap on the blond head. “Have fun. Be good.”

He watched them leave, gave a lazy wave at the car and then headed off to do the laundry at least.

Some laundry and a bit of garden work accomplished – sans beer – Jack took a quick shower, settled the dog in the truck and headed out for Boulder. Flyboy gazed out the window, Offenbach's “La Périchole” wafted gently out of the truck's speakers and the air condition made the ride a comfortable one.

He took his time, stopped at a gas station to give the dog some water and fill up the truck. The traffic was minimal and he reached Boulder in a little over two hours. It took a while to find the address of the guy who had offered his bike for sale.

Jack and Jackson had watched several Ebay auctions in their area. The one they finally picked was red, in relatively good shape and from the Seventies. “That's it,” Jackson had said. “That's the one he'd like. It almost looks like the one we saw in Minnesota.”

So, Jack had looked up the seller’s info and called, offering a small fortune for the privilege of buying the bike directly, rather than participating in the auction. A fortune for a used bike that would likely need new paint, new wheels and probably new lights as well.

The address was a two story home, painted sunny yellow, surrounded by a neatly trimmed lawn and little pink and yellow rose bushes lining the front porch. Pure domestic delight.

Two fur-balls of middle-sized dogs dashed through the yard as soon as Jack got out of the truck, barking indignantly at the intruder. Flyboy began ranting and hammering his front paws against the door as he tried to wedge his head through the small opening in the window.

“Whoa, guys!” Jack approached the fur-balls who were making it very clear they didn't appreciate visitors who brought other dogs. 

He was rescued by a woman in her mid forties with auburn hair and bright blue eyes. “You must be Colonel O'Neill. I'm Mrs. Hanscom.” She grabbed the dogs by their collars. “I’ll take them into the house so you can let your dog out. Truffles, Teddy, stop it at once! This is not how we treat guests around here!” She ushered the dogs inside and closed the screen door. “My husband told me you were coming to pick up the bike today. Would you like some lemonade? I'll get water for your dog, too.”

He thanked her and, when she had gone back inside, let Flyboy out. Mrs. Hanscom returned only a moment later carrying a tray with two glasses and a pitcher of lemonade, then went back inside to get a bowl of water.

Once she returned they sat at a wooden table on the porch.

“He's beautiful,” Mrs. Hanscom said with appreciation when she poured a glass of lemonade for Jack after she'd put the bowl of water in front of the dog. “What breed is he?” 

“Oh, probably Shep and Lab. But we're not sure. He sort of adopted us and we took him home.”

Judging by the look in her eyes he had just scored a few brownie points. Sipping perfectly cold and not too sweet lemonade, Jack found himself oddly at peace with the world. Mrs. Hanscom – she told him to call her Beverly – patted the black beast. “I raised our dogs myself. It was a lot of hustle and bustle with two puppies and two six year old boys. It was like having four children.”

“I can imagine.” Jack grinned.

“The bike is out in the barn behind the house. I'll take you to it in a bit. It really needs some working over, but it's a sturdy bike. My son Bill used it and his cousins before him.” She fiddled with the table cloth. “Time flies. Soon my sons will both be going to college.” 

_Soon my son will jump from being ten to thirty six_ , Jack thought, appalled by the strong resentment he felt. When had he started to dread the thought of Daniel becoming big again that much? Pushing his unwanted feelings back into a far dark corner of his mind, he turned to Mrs. Baker. “I bet they're great kids.”

“Yes, they are; both strong headed and adventurous, but good kids. Come on, I'll show you the bike.”

Jack told the dog to stay and followed her to a small white painted shed. The bike was similar to the one in Minnesota. Sturdy Sting Ray, red frame and black banana seat. The plastic parts of the high handle bar were missing and the cables going down from the brakes and the light were broken in two places. The long fork looked okay, as did the frame. Not much rust there, just several scratches. They could paint it easily. The wheels, original Schwinn wheels, had to go though. And the front light was smashed. Jack guessed they'd have to replace the chain, too.

“It's old,” Beverly Hanscom said with an apologetic smile. “But we were told it has collectors value. Are you going to fix it?”

“Yeah. My kid wanted one like this and they're hard to get.”

“Bill loved this bike,” she said, stroking her hand over the smooth saddle. “He used to take it everywhere like it was his horse, not a bike. I think he even named it, but I can't remember… Red Blizzard or something. He was so fast on this thing, I remember him racing down the main street, almost being hit by a car. But he somehow beat the devil... that's what he used to say. He always pulled stunts like that. One time he rode his bike out of town and got lost. It was his luck everyone remembered the fire engine red bike and we were able to find him.” 

Jack felt the hairs on his neck rise.

He was so gonna kill Jackson and the rest of his traitorous team... ex-team.

“But boys will be boys. I guess that never changes.” She closed the door of the shed and together they gazed at the dusty red bike that had once beat the devil in Boulder, Colorado.

Would it beat the devil in Colorado Springs, too? Jack didn't think Daniel would try to cross a main street and risk breaking his neck in the process just for fun. He'd probably forget the curfew or ride this bike in places he wasn't supposed to be. But he wasn't reckless just for fun. There were other devils in Colorado Springs Jack worried about. They came in black or white Sedans to snatch up little boys from their bikes and take them god knew where...

_For crying out loud, you're exaggerating. And you're telling the kid not to over react?_ Curling his lips in annoyance, Jack gave the horn a squeeze and it bleated obediently. 

He carried the bike to his truck, paid Mrs. Hanscom and whistled for Flyboy.

His dog was no where to be seen.

A quick search resulted in finding the AOWL deserter at a door sniffing excitedly. From the other side of the door came answering sniffs and snuffs. “Maybe they want to get to know each other after all,” Beverly said. “How does your guy here do with other dogs?”

“He's a teddy bear,” Jack said. “Hates cats but loves dogs and kids.” 

Once released Truffles and Teddy, a little apprehensive at first, warmed up quickly and allowed Jack to pet them. The dogs had fun sniffing each other and only when Flyboy got a little too friendly with Truffles did Teddy stake his claim by growling warningly. Jack loaded and secured the bike on the truck as the dogs started a friendly chase all over the yard.

IV

The drive home was uneventful. Jack turned in at Jackson's street and parked in the driveway. They had agreed on keeping the bike here so the kid wouldn't accidentally stumble upon it at Jack's place before his birthday. He left the truck and let the dog out for a short run in Jackson's yard.

Jack went straight to the back of the house to retrieve the garage keys from where Jackson had told him they would be. Eying the lawn Jack made a mental note to remind Big Daniel he had to water it. It was still young grass and needed some pampering.

He reached the corner of the house, trying to remember under which pot the key was supposed to be when the dog froze in the middle of the yard and started growling deep in his throat. Jack's hand sneaked into his light summer jacket for the gun.

He heard a door slam in the house. Flyboy began barking and shot off to the back porch.

Jackson was off world. So unless the mission got scrubbed there wasn't anyone supposed to be home.

Slowly Jack took a few steps back to peer through what had to be the living room window. Quickly scanning the room for intruders he didn't see anything out of order. Couch, coffee table scattered with books and computer prints, probably unclassified research material. Two coffee mugs... one probably from last night and one from this morning... The rest of the room was neat. No signs of vandalism.

He made his way to the back porch where a sliding door led into the living room. He called the dog in a low voice and Flyboy came over Immediately, still growling. Jack pressed himself to the house wall and tried to look inside. There was nobody in the room, but in the suburban afternoon stillness he heard another door clap, then a sneeze and finally a figure showed up, only a shadow from Jack's position.

He pulled his gun and waited calmly.

The glass door opened and only seconds later Jack had his arm around the guy, putting pressure on his throat with his hand and holding the gun to his head with the other. The dog planted himself in front of the man, barking like mad.

“Wanna tell me what you're doing here, pal?” He felt the man tense and applied just a bit more pressure to the gun at his head. “I wouldn't do anything stupid if I were you,” he warned conversationally. 

“Tóg bog é!” 

Jack whirled the man around and slammed him against the wall. He let go of him, but kept the gun aimed at his head. He gave Flyboy's collar a short tug. “Good boy. Back off.” Reluctantly the dog retreated and sat down next to Jack, ears twitching.

The guy looked vaguely familiar. Bald and built like Teal'c, but Caucasian. Sporting a dark mustache... Jack blinked. He pointed the gun downwards and took a breath. “Crap.”

“Are ye mad?!” 

“Hey, look, I heard noises inside and...”

“Ye bómánta military guys.” The bulky man with the bald head gave him a deadly glare. “I was feeding the bloody fish.” 

”Fish?” Jack asked stupidly.

“Aye, the fish. Daniel's fish. In the tank.”

“Why are you feeding his fish?”

“Would ye care to put the gun away?”

Jack gazed at his gun, then back at … what was the name... yeah, Ferris or something. Jackson's neighbor. The one with the pond LD had almost drowned in. Jack had met him once when Daniel had delivered the garden gnome replacement. On his wild dash after the dog a couple months ago the brat had left a path of destruction in the guy’s backyard. “Why are you feeding his fish?” he asked again.

“'Cause he asked me tae. He's away for the weekend.”

“I know that.” 

“So I feed his fish. The feeder is broken.”

“What?”

Ferris, or whatshisname, rolled his eyes and pulled a key from his jeans pocket. “The automatic feeder disnae work right. I do have a key. See? Are ya satisfied?”

“Sure.” He put the gun away. “Sooo...”

“Fergus. And ye are dad tae the little lad, Daniel.” 

“Fergus,” Jack drawled. What kind of a name was that anyway? “You done with the fish feeding?”

“Aye. I was coming to see what all the ruckus was out here. Heard the dog.” He gave Flyboy a dark glare. “The dog knows me. Should nae acted up like that.”

“Hey, this is his second home. You intruded. He protected.” Jack stroked the black silky fur of Flyboy's head. “Good boy,” he repeated and received a quick lick to his hand. 

“Acts like a guard dog,” Fergus growled. “Almost ate me alive when the lad fell into my pond, too.”

Jack continued to pat said dog's head and rubbed behind his ears.

Fergus turned and gazed at the lawn. “Coming back tae water it tonight. Just in case yer planning on returning.”

“Right.” Jack grimaced. 

Fergus, the Highlander, snorted. “Dinnae go apologizing, lad.”

He wasn't. “You could've been anybody. I had no idea he asked you to feed his fish.” He had no idea Jackson had fish at his house. Daniel used to have fish at his apartment and now had them in his office. Jackson hadn’t had any fish last time Jack checked. “I'm going to put my kid's bike in Jackson's garage, then I'm outta here.”

“Aye. Reckon I'll be seeing you on Friday then.”

Jack blinked. “You will?”

“At the birthday party. Daniel invited me. The big one. Said his wee nephew's birthday is on the same date and they're going to host the party together.”

“Ah.” Apparently he wasn't getting all his memos regarding the guest list.

“I'll bring some Scottish ale. Ye'll learn to appreciate real beer. Daniel really likes it.” Fergus clapped Jack's shoulder and shook his head. “You military guys need a wee bit loosening up.”

Jack bent and pulled the key out from under one of the empty plant pots and jiggled it in his hand. He got a garage key, that Fergus guy had a key to the house. What was wrong with this picture?

Nothing.

Everything.

Nothing.

He stalked off, pulled the bike from the truck and pushed it into the garage, then locked the door. Giving Fergus a halfhearted wave, Jack climbed into his truck and went home, making a few mental notes to gently and sneakily interrogate his kid about Highlander guy.

***

Daniel dug into his brownie topped with whipped cream and hot chocolate fudge, licking his lips in bliss. Anything chocolate or coffee related was the absolutely best thing in the world next to spicy Asian food. Or cookies. Or Jack's pancakes probably.

“What was your favorite part of the museum?” Daniel asked Sam, who sipped her cappuccino. 

“My favorite part? Let's see. I think I really liked the bike restoration area. You know where they remodel and fix very old bikes?” Her eyes lit up at the memory. “Did you see the tools and possibilities they have there? I wish I could work on my bike in a place like that.”

“Are you and Siler still working on your bike?”

“No. Now we’re working on his. Mine is done.” She frowned. “You never saw it after I took it home, did you?” Sam had re-painted her bike with Siler's help and airbrushed it. Daniel knew they had done something to the engines, too. 

He shook his head. “No. But I'd love to.”

“Did you like the history department?” She put sugar in her cappuccino. “I know motorcycles are not really your favorite thing, but I thought the history of biking might spark your interest.”

“I was amazed at how many different motorcycles there were. They even hung from the ceiling,” Daniel replied, savoring more of his brownie. “I liked the Time capsule.” 

“I thought you might,” she grinned. “It's a great idea.” 

The museum was assembling a "riders time capsule". The idea was to create a history of today's riders. Anyone interested in preserving their own personal slice of history, could send their chosen photograph to "The Official Motorcycle Museum Time Capsule". People were encouraged to write a brief description of the photograph to be written on the back. The specially designed case would remain sealed for 25 years, then it would be opened for display.

“If they continue this, in a couple of hundred years or so some archaeologist might find the capsule and can retrace the history of bikers in Colorado Springs, or from wherever people sent in their memories.” Daniel licked chocolate fudge from his lips. 

“Yeah, that's... Oh.” Sam looked up at something behind Daniel.

“What?” 

“Nothing. Just...” 

Daniel blinked when he saw her blush pink as she hastily dabbed her mouth with her napkin.

“There's Pete.”

“Pete, who?” Daniel turned around and saw a guy wearing a blue t-shirt and jeans. He was coming over now, a huge grin on his face.

“Sam? Hey, Sam.”

Sam gave the man a face splitting smile. Daniel blinked. He didn't think he'd ever seen her smile like that. “Pete... Hi.”

She didn't seem to know if she wanted to be embarrassed or happy to see him, Daniel noticed.

“Hi.” Pete was still grinning, his eyes twinkling with humor. “Come here often?”

“They serve the best brownies ever.” Sam shrugged.

“Oh, yeah. Hey, who's your friend here. Should I worry?” 

Daniel's eyebrows climbed over the rim of his glasses as he watched Sam blush some more. She cleared her throat and indicated for Pete to sit down. “Pete, this is Daniel. Daniel, this is...” she paused, apparently trying to figure out how to introduce Pete. “Mr. Shanahan. Detective Shanahan.”

“Call me Pete,” Pete offered, holding out his hand to Daniel who took it and gave it a short shake. 

“Hi,” Daniel said, trying to decide if he liked the guy and, more importantly, where he’d come from. He tried to remember if Sam had ever mentioned a Pete to them, but came up with a blank. No, there hadn't been any Petes mentioned by Sam lately. Or ever. 

“So you two been over at the museum?” Pete asked.

“Yes,” Sam replied, playing with her spoon while looking at Pete from under her eyelashes. “What are you doing here?”

“Picking up dessert for dinner. They have the best brownies ever. So, did you like the museum, Daniel?”

“Yes, sir,” Daniel said politely, remembering he was a kid. He was better at sticking to his role these days. “It was very cool.”

“I've been there a couple of times,” Pete said. “It's small but stuffed with everything a biker loves.” He looked back at Sam. “I'll bring my bike next time I'm in the Springs. You promised me a trip up to the Garden of the Gods, remember?”

“Uh, yeah, sure. That'll be fun,” Sam said, avoiding Daniel's curious stare. Realizing he was staring, he averted his gaze to the rest of his brownie. 

“Anyway.” Pete jumped up from his chair and gave Daniel a sloppy salute. “I gotta go. Need to buy more food for dinner. Nice to meet you, Champ.” 

“Um...” Daniel was about to say likewise or something, but didn't get a word out. Maybe it was because Pete had already turned his attention back to Sam. Or maybe it was because he was kissing her gently on the lips. 

“I'll see you at seven.” With that he left to collect his brownies.

Sam bit her lip and then exhaled a deep breath. “Okay. That was... awkward. And Daniel, you can close your mouth now.”

“Holy buckets,” Daniel blurted out.

“Don't over react, please?” She looked at him pleadingly. “He's just a guy.”

“He _kissed_ you,” Daniel stated the obvious. “He buys you brownies for dinner.”

“For dessert. He's going to cook Italian. He's a great cook. Just like you. He's a cop from Denver. A friend of my brother’s.”

“You’re dating.” That was mind boggling. Sam was dating. It was... “Cool.”

Sam's face finally turned back its normal color and she actually giggled. “You think?”

“Hell, yes!” Giving her a sheepish grin, he went on, “Whoops, sorry. I mean, yes, it's great. How long has this been going on? Why didn't you tell us? Do you see him often?“ He caught himself, embarrassed. “Sorry. I didn't mean to be so nosy.”

“I met him in April. This is still... new to me. I haven't dated a guy in... oh, forever. Not since I've been working for the program anyway. And ever since Martouf and Narim...” She trailed off and Daniel gave her a sympathetic glance. He had liked Martouf and Narim. When Martouf died it had been a shock to all of them and the total destruction of Narim’s world... it was just too big a disaster to take in or rationalize. But strangely life went on and they had to move on, too, or every single loss they suffered would consume them.

Taking a sip of her cappuccino, Sam continued. “Anyway, my brother set us up and we found out we have common interests like biking and sports. So we met again. And … again.” She pursed her lips. “I wasn't going to tell you guys just yet.”

“Do you want me to keep quiet about it?” 

“I don't know, Daniel. It's probably stupid to be so secretive... It's just that...” She grimaced. “He might not be ready to meet the full force of SG-1, including the colonel.”

“You mean especially the colonel,” Daniel said dryly. 

“Oh, I don't know. Teal'c can be pretty intimidating if he wants to be,” she said with a snort.

They were interrupted by the waitress bringing the bill. Daniel paid, ignoring Sam's mild protests and the curious looks from the waitress. When they were in the car putting on their seat belts, he had made up his mind. “Bring him to my birthday party.”

She frowned. “I don't know. That's next weekend already.”

“Why not? Jack won't bite. Teal'c maybe. But we can ask him to be less scary.” 

“Are you kidding? They'll be all over him, checking him out. The colonel will probably want to see Pete's track record.” She shuddered.

“He's a cop, right? He'll take it in spades.”

“Well, yeah.” She looked thoughtful. “Are you sure? You know we'd have to be on our toes and watch our mouths all the time while he's there. About you and Daniel and everything else. I don't want to put a damper on your party by bringing Pete.”

“Daniel invited his neighbor, Fergus, too. So we already have to watch ourselves anyway,” Daniel encouraged her. “Come on, bring him. It'll be fun.”

Sam suddenly wrapped her arms around him and kissed the top of his head. When she pulled back her eyes were suspiciously misty. “Sorry, I just had to hug you.”

Daniel adjusted his glasses and grinned.

“It's just... Last year you were so determined not to have a birthday party. I think even before you got...” 

“Shrunk,” Daniel helped matter of fact.

“Yes. Even before that you seemed to almost hate your birthday. Always glad when it was over. I recall you once telling me you wished nobody knew when your birthday was. You're so different now.”

“My parents died just a couple of weeks before my birthday,” Daniel tried to explain. “And when they were gone I didn't matter to anyone for so long. I didn't have many birthday parties with cake and candles as a kid. At the orphanage they celebrate the kids’ birthdays, but I guess I didn't appreciate that very much at the time. When I went to college at fifteen I didn't have many friends so there wasn't anyone who'd wanted to celebrate with me. They were all older, all interested in girls or beer or other things. Nobody wanted to hang out with a snotty kid. ” 

“I can relate to that. I wasn't that young, but I wasn't really into those drinking games either.”

They looked at one another and Daniel chuckled. “We're such geeks.”

“Geeks rule,” Sam exclaimed and they laughed. 

Daniel picked up the conversation as they made it through the afternoon traffic. “You guys make all the difference for me. Maybe I just finally realized that a birthday party isn't a bad thing.”

“It's not,” Sam smiled. “No matter if you'll be nine or thirty six.”

“Even BD didn't object to the party,” Daniel pointed out. “Though I think he sees it more as my party, not his. He's probably just humoring me.”

“Well, he can't deny himself what he thinks is the right thing for you. Right?” 

“Not everything that's right for me is right for him. We're not the same person. Not... anymore. Not really.” Daniel sighed. “It's still kinda complicated.”

“You're right. Physically this is still a miracle. I wish he had been a bit more forthcoming in explaining it to me. String theory is such a fascinating subject. So many possibilities,” she shook her head. “Holy Hannah, I'd really like to know more about this.”

“Maybe one day you will,” Daniel said. For once he didn't really care how Thor had been able to put BD back in time. Quantum physics weren't his strong suit and he had more Jack-moments when confronted with Sam's theories than he was willing to admit. But BD was part of his life now and Daniel thought it would be nice if it stayed that way.

***

“And she's bringing... what was his name again?” Jack looked up from the pile of folded towels next to him. 

“Pete. Pete Shanahan.” Daniel was sorting out socks, sitting on the old kitchen table they stored the laundry baskets on. The laundry room was in the basement and it always smelled like washing powder and a little moldy in there. The kid wrinkled his nose and sneezed.

“Bless... So, she's bringing him to your party?”

“Yep. And can I ask you kindly to not scare him off. I'll ask the same of Teal'c.” 

“Hey, who's scaring off anyone? I'm a perfectly nice guy. So is Teal'c.”

Daniel snorted and Jack flapped a hand towel at him.

“I'm just saying. Don't step on his toes, please? And don't make any jokes about him? And don't glare. Or hover. Or be gloomy...”

“Are you telling me to behave?” Jack raised an eyebrow. “And if I don't there won't be any cake for me?” 

“Well, yes.” Daniel eyed the white sock he was holding. “This has a hole in it.” Tossing it to the side he picked up another. “I hate pulling socks together,” he informed Jack. 

“So do I. That's why you're doing it,” Jack said good-naturally, ignoring the tongue that was stuck out at him. “So, this Pete...”

“Is a cop from Denver. I think I like him. He was nice enough.” Daniel rubbed at his nose. “Weren't you supposed to do the laundry while I was gone?”

“I did. Just had to leave before the dryer was done.”

“Where did you go?” Daniel eyed him curiously.

Oh, great. “Had some errands to run. Stop whining.”

“What errands?”

“And he kissed her?” Jack's eyebrow took an upturn again. 

“Sam is kissable, you know. She's actually very pretty,” Daniel informed him.

Well, d'oh.

This day was full of surprises. Jack folded more towels, then dish towels. Dish towels always looked a little wrinkled. But hey, this was a guy’s household. No way was he going to press dish towels. Carter had a boyfriend... who would've known? A guy who kissed her and cooked her dinner and went out motorcycling with her.

Go figure... “Why didn't she tell us?” Jack tried to process Daniel's news.

“She was afraid you and Teal'c would gang up on him and check him out. What errands did you have to do?”

Damn straight they would. He made a mental note to find out what kind of guy Pete was. He had to know whom they were letting into their family here. If Carter had been dating him since April already this looked kinda serious. Ignoring Daniel's last question Jack asked, “What does he look like?”

“Dunno. Blond, blue eyes, worked out, nicely built.”

“No MacKay or Felger guy?”

“Ja-ack. He's a cop.”

“Just checking.” Jack wondered what Jackson's Highlander guy did for a living. He certainly was built too. Another one to check out. “Did you know Jackson has fish?”

Daniel threw a couple of paired socks into the laundry basket next to him. “Yes. Guppies and goldfish. I haven't seen them yet, but he told me. And that the feeder in his new tank was broken when he bought it. Fergus is feeding his fish now when he's on missions. You remember Fergus?”

“Oh, yes. The guy with the pond.” The guy who was feeding the fish.

Jack stacked towels into another laundry basket, scowling. Why was he so obsessed with that man? He was Jackson's neighbor, he had a key to the house. It was perfectly normal. Trevor had a key to Jack's house and watered the plants and picked up the mail when Jack and Daniel were gone for a couple of days. Big deal. Not.

Except Jack had always fed Daniel's fish when he had been big. Jack used to have the key to Daniel's apartment and Jack had been the one who fetched the mail, watered the plants and fed the frigging fish when Daniel had been in the infirmary, or stuck off world with another team, or was out of town for some reason.

_Get over it_ , he told himself.  _This is ridiculous_ . 

“So promise me not to gang up on Pete, please?” Daniel was done with the socks. He sat there, swinging his legs and giving Jack a look somewhere between desperation and hopefulness. 

“Yeah, okay, fine. But if he can't stand a little sniffing, he's not the right guy for Carter.” 

“You're not a dog,” Daniel sighed. “Neither is he.” 

“All I'm saying is that we can't just let anybody in. You know that,” Jack muttered.

“And Sam is capable of choosing her men.” Daniel scrunched up his nose. “We need to do something about the smell down here.” Then he perked up. “Did the errands you had to run have something to do with the party?”

Like a dog with a bone.

“Narim?” Jack queried. “That Jonas guy we found on that planet... The one who turned all god-like on us?”

“I liked Narim,” Daniel said. He hopped from the table and made for the stairs. “I'm going to the tree house for a while. Will take my phone with me.”

“Take the dog out with you,” Jack yelled after the drumming feet on the basement stairs. 

He finished the rest of the laundry, stacked everything in the basket and carried it upstairs where he continued to put it away. He tried not to look too closely at the piles of books, papers, CDs and Nintendo games on Daniel's desk as he put socks in the drawer. Maybe it was time for the “How to keep my room tidy 101” speech again. He spotted an empty water bottle, a glass and a mug on the floor next to Daniel's bed. Peering into the mug he didn't exactly find living bacteria but dried coffee smudges. When he spotted a cereal bowl with bits of half-dried cereal mush, he grimaced and it took some effort not to just pick it up and carry it into the kitchen.

He stepped on a squeaky dog toy and a chewing bone on his way out and gently kicked both items aside before leaving the room. As he entered the kitchen he spotted Flyboy sitting at the back door, yelping and scratching at the wooden frame.

“Did he forget you, buddy? Told him to let you out.” Jack opened the door and the dog zipped out, running straight to the trees with the house on it and barked at the stairs.

***

“Don't you have to go home soon?” Daniel's eyes darted nervously from Alistair to the door. “I can't let him sit down there barking like mad. Jack'll come over to see what's up.” He hadn't expected the other boy to be here today. It was 8 already, long after dinner time. 

“My parents won't be home til ten. My mom's on some seminar and my dad's working late,” Alistair said, then grimaced. “Your dog is scary.”

“No, he isn't. But he smells you and so he barks.” Daniel sighed. “I have to bring him up here so he gets to know you.”

“No!” Alistair plastered himself against the couch.

“He won't bite you. I promise. If he knows we're friends, he'll like you,” Daniel tried.

“Dogs hate me.”

“That's nonsense. You can't know that. You don't know every dog.” Daniel tried not to lose his patience. Had he been that whiny as a kid? Was he that whiny now? 

“I don't like them.”

_And I don't like kids_ , Daniel thought sullenly. But then Alistair said subdued, “One of the big kids who bullies me has a dog. Sometimes he sics the dog after me. It's a huge brown dog. He almost caught me twice.” 

Daniel huffed with irritation. He wished he could help this kid to deal with his attackers. He wished he had been bigger and stronger when he’d been a kid the first time around. Oh, he wished he already had his bike so he could go and tell these goons off. “I'm sorry,” he offered sincerely. “But my dog is really nice.”

“He doesn't sound nice,” Alistair insisted fearfully, his green eyes wide.

“Okay, wait here. I'll be right back.” 

He left the tree house and skidded down the stairs, soothing the dog by giving him one of the treats he always carried around in his jeans pockets. Petting and rubbing Flyboy's head and back Daniel hastily told him everything was all right. Seeing his young friend well and apparently happy, Flyboy stopped ranting and proceeded to lick Daniel's hand and roll on his back to get a belly rub.

“You're a good boy. I'm fine, see? No need to be upset,” Daniel continued to reassure him. Sometimes Flyboy's guard-dog qualities were a bit unnerving.

Oh, great, and there was Jack crossing the lawn. “What is it with him lately? One could think you're hiding someone up there,” Jack joked, rolling his eyes.

Daniel blanched and quickly lowered his gaze to Flyboy. He couldn't keep this up much longer. “I forgot to take him out with me.” Which wasn't exactly the truth. He had left the dog inside just in case Alistair might still be in the tree house.

“Well, since you're down here anyway, I'd like you to take a look at your room.”

_God no. Not now, please_ . “Jack.”

“Daniel.”

“Can't we have this discussion tomorrow? I was in the middle of reading.”

But Jack put a hand on his shoulder and steered him towards the house. “It’s no big deal, but I’m drawing the line at last week’s cereal crawling out of its bowl.“

“I ate that yesterday, not last week,” Daniel grumbled.

“Just put the dishes away and pick up the dog toys from the floor tonight. You can clean your desk tomorrow.”

“How gracious of you. It's my desk, you know? In my room... and they're my things,” Daniel muttered, glancing back over his shoulder at the tree house. Flyboy stayed at the bottom of the stairs, sniffing the banister. “Jack, look, I'll do it right before I go to bed, okay?” He tried to wriggle away a bit. 

“You do it right now and you can be back and read for another hour,” Jack compromised.

“Where's the difference in me doing it now or later?”

“You'll forget to do it later.” Jack gave him a gentle push in the general direction of the house. 

“I won't. I promise.”

“You seriously want to turn this into an argument?” 

“Err, no,” Daniel sighed. He called for the dog as he trudged inside. He gathered glass, coffee mug, cereal bowl and water bottle from his room and put everything away as ordered, then went back to collect Flyboy's scattered toys and put them into the basket that was on the floor under his window. 

“Don't rip it all out again, you hear?” he told the dog who promptly removed the squeaking football from the basket and started chewing on it. “I said no. Leave it,” Daniel scolded. “Not gonna play right now. Leave it.” Once Flyboy had put the toy down Daniel threw it back into the basket, ushered the dog out of his room and closed the door. “You stay in the house, okay? I'll be back soon.” 

When Daniel loudly announced he was heading out again, Jack's reply of acknowledgment came from the basement. He gave the dog some treats and slipped out the door.

Alistair was working on his laptop when Daniel entered, a bag of cookies and a Seven Up bottle in his hands. “I thought you might be hungry.” He dropped the items on the small table and sat on the couch. Alistair dug into the cookie bag and opened the bottle to gulp down at least a quarter of it. Then he burped loudly.

Almost against his will Daniel started giggling and Alistair slapped a hand over his mouth. “Whoops.”

“What are you working on?” Daniel curiously peered over the boy's shoulder.

“Um, it's a school project. Something we have to do over the summer.” After a moment of hesitation Alistair turned the laptop so Daniel could watch the screen. What he saw was nothing more than lines and lines of text in some computer language. “I'm creating a Tetris game,” Alistair explained, “using an AS3 code. I'm almost done with the basics like forms and shapes. I need to add more graphics, some music and high score submissions.”

“I have Tetris on my phone,” Daniel said. “You really know how to read this?” He gestured at the computer screen, suddenly realizing how Jack must feel when confronted with some alien text on a tablet. 

Alistair jerked the laptop away and glared at Daniel. “Yes, I do. And I know it's geeky, so don't make fun of me.”

“Hey, I wasn't. This is a language I can't read. That's all I meant. Mostly it's me who can read things that others can't.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I... I know some languages.” Daniel shrugged it off. “I like languages. And history.”

Alistair's frown stayed firmly in place. “What languages? Proof it.”

“Um, Arabic, Russian...”

“Are you a spy or something?” Alistair snorted.

“Har har. No, but I lived in Egypt when I was very little.”

“Cool. Why?”

“My parents were archaeologists.” Daniel bit his bottom lip. He didn't want to tell this boy so much about himself. He didn't trust other kids. Never had. To avoid further questions, he added. “They died a couple of years ago. I don't wanna talk about it.”

“'kay.” Alistair munched more cookies and drank more Seven Up. “Say something in Russian,” he demanded and Daniel humored him.

“Wow. What did you say?”

“Hi, nice to meet you, how was your day. Are you a Russian spy?”

It made Alistair laugh at least.

“Why are those kids after you? Aside from having fun with it?” Daniel didn't want to know. It might come too close to his own experiences. But he couldn't hide this kid in the tree house forever. He couldn't tell him to leave and never come back either. He had offered his help, so he was going to help.

“They're kids from my math class. The school put me in a grade 7th math class. Same with the digital arts.” 

“And they hate you because you're getting better grades than they do.”

“I guess. I tried to get bad grades, you know. Just so they’d leave me alone. But I can't play stupid. I can't put wrong answers in, that's like... cheating. I'm not dumb.” Alistair shut his laptop down. “I hate school.”

“Yeah,” Daniel mumbled. “I'm home schooled now. That's better.” He still felt awkward with this cover story. Maybe because he didn't have to use it very often. He didn't spend much time with “outsiders”. 

“I wish my parents had time to do that.” Alistair said wistfully. “But they're always working. My dad's a manager in a computer company and my mom's a Doctor. She's a scientist.”

“Why don't you just stay home in the afternoons to avoid being bullied by those kids?” 

“My brother Bryan is with them,” Alistair said. He pressed his lips together into a thin hard line. “He'd never leave me alone at home.”

A cold hand clutched around Daniel's stomach and he swallowed the bile that was rising in his throat. He didn't want to know any more. “I'm sorry,” he choked out.

Alistair stared at him. “Are you alright? You look spooked.”

“It's nothing,” Daniel mumbled. “I gotta go. And you should go home. Will you come tomorrow? Because we'll be home tomorrow, so that might be a problem.”

“No. Tomorrow my dad is taking me to a science fair in Denver.” Alistair's eyes lit up. “It's his day off.” He shouldered his backpack. “I found a way to climb the fence over to your neighbors. From there it's easy to get to the street. I won't have to cross your yard and get bitten by the dog or seen by your dad. Don't you have a mom, too?” Alistair stuffed his laptop into his pack.

“No, no mom.” 

“Oh, okay. Thanks for the cookies, man.”

“You're welcome.”

Alistair blinked. “You really talk like an adult, you know? You're worse than me.”

Despite everything that made Daniel smile. “Thank you.”

  
  


Jack was watching TV when he entered the house. There was a hockey game on and Jack was muttering and waving his beer bottle at the screen. Daniel had planned to go to bed. But drawn in like a magnet he went straight over to the couch, settled down and tiredly nudged Jack until he wrapped one arm around his shoulders, hugging him close. He was tired, but didn't want to leave the safe embrace just yet, so he burrowed deeper into Jack's side and closed his eyes. This was real. This was good. The past could stay in the past and didn't need to raise its ugly head as far as Daniel was concerned.

However, later he was lying awake in his bed mulling things over. He tried some simple meditation, but he just couldn't shut his mind up. With a sigh he switched on his bedside lamp and gazed at his cluttered desk. Not motivated to read, he retrieved his journal and a ballpoint pen from his nightstand. Gnawing on the pen he thought for a moment and then began to write down what had happened since Friday. He tried not to get too close to his own past and concentrated on the here and now. In an attempt to get a more general approach on the whole bullying subject, Daniel scribbled down several questions he wanted to check out on the Internet. Still deep in thoughts he finally put his journal away and went to sleep.

***

On Sunday, Daniel spent the morning tidying up his room, dusting and even changing his bed sheets. “I don't want you to think I'm not capable. I was going to do this soon anyway,” he told Jack bluntly when he voiced his praise.

Yep. Appealing to Daniel’s pride was still the best way to deal with certain things.

Jack washed and waxed his truck while Daniel finished his room and later they put steaks on the grill and Daniel made sure they didn't burn. The kid didn't even hole up in his tree house and they spent the afternoon on the deck, Jack reading the paper and Daniel working on his laptop.

Until...

“Jack?” 

Engrossed in the sport section, Jack tried to ignore the inquiring tone of voice.

“Jack?”

“Mh?”

“Were there bullies at your school when you were a kid?” 

With a last longing look at the hockey game report, Jack folded the paper and put it on the deck table. Blue intense eyes met his over the rim of Daniel's laptop screen. “I'm sure you didn't bully other kids. Unless you were a mean kid which you probably weren't. But you must've been one of those...”

“One of those?” Jack echoed.

“Well, one of those kids that were great at sports, probably hung out with a bunch of wild loud boys...”

“Ye-ah.”

“And you probably had other kids in your school. Kids like... me?”

“Kids like you?” 

“Nerds. Geeks. Kids with glasses. Kids who’d rather spent all their time in their rooms reading than going swimming and playing baseball. Kids who always had A's in everything they did except sports.”

Jack winced at the harshness in those words, at the bitterness with which they were thrown at him. “That's a cliche. And you're neither pale nor bad at sports. Teal'c and I trained you well. And you definitely aren't a nerd.” Cringing at the memories of the many times he called Daniel 'geek' he added, “Not in a bad kind of way anyway.”

“But I was just like that when I was a kid. Back then.”

“Okay. Let's assume you were...”

“Was.”

“Fine. Where are you going with this?”

“Why do kids bully other kids?”

“I...” Jack trailed off momentarily speechless at the simple, yet so complicated question. 

“I have a theory,” Daniel said sharply. “I think geeks have some sort of genetic code or smell that makes bullies react in a bad way. They see a kid with glasses and immediately need to smash the glasses and give the kid a bloody nose. It's actually interesting. It should be part of anthropology classes.” 

“Whoa, Daniel, I don't think...”

“Or they’re scared of failure. There's a younger kid in class getting all the good grades and the bullies are afraid they might be revealed as idiots. So they torture the geeks whenever they can to prove their physical strength. Matter over mind. And it'll continue at college, at work... a bully will always stay a bully and a geek...”

“All right, hold it. Right there.” Jack rubbed a hand over his hair. “What's going on?”

Daniel blinked and sucked in his bottom lip. “I...”

A horrible, unthinkable suspicion crept up on Jack. He gently put the laptop aside so he had a full view on his boy. “Daniel, are you being bullied at the mountain?” The mere idea of that filled him with hot anger. “Is there something you want to talk about? Someone who threatens you?”

The blue eyes behind the wire-framed glasses grew wide. “No. Oh, god, no. Jack, that's not it. I'm sorry. I was just... No. Nobody's bullying or threatening me.“

“You'd tell me if something like that was going on, right?” Jack wasn’t kidding himself. He could never be sure Daniel really would tell him if someone harassed him. Daniel never wanted Jack to fight his battles. But he hoped that some of the adjustments and developments Daniel had made – especially recently – had rewritten part of the old behavior patterns. “I need you to promise me you wouldn't try to stand up to something like that alone.” As an afterthought he added. “If you ever feel like you can't talk to me, confide in Jackson. Or Teal'c. Sam. Anybody.” 

Jack raked his mind for signs of Daniel being different lately. But he wasn't. Wait. There must have been an issue with Svenson. Jack remembered the forgotten assignment and Daniel's reluctance to go see her on Friday. But that had happened before. Sometimes the kid wasn't comfortable with what happened during the sessions and then he attempted to stall or re-schedule. It had never been anything serious though.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Really, there's nothing going on...” Daniel reassured him, sounding sincere.

“Then what? What's going on?”

The kid put his elbows on the wooden table, placing his chin in his hands as he gazed out into the yard. “There are memories. From before. When I was a kid. Lately those memories seem to... surface. There's stuff I’m trying to keep as deeply buried as possible.”

A quick glance at Jack and then Daniel focused on the yard again. “It happened before. You know... memories from a long time ago suddenly seem so fresh. Some things I just don't want to re-live ever again. Don't want to think about, don't even want to know they ever happened.”

“Any idea what triggers that?” 

Daniel hesitated, then shrugged. “Sometimes it's a bad dream. Sometimes it's something that happens now. Remember the playground? With that kid trying to push me down the slide? It brought back a lot of those memories about being bullied as a kid. In school.”

“That was last summer.” Jack remembered all right. “What about now?” 

“Been thinking about it lately.” He pulled the laptop back over and pointed at the screen. “Did you know there are studies about why people bully others?” He tapped his finger at a line of text. “It says here that kids who bully others are most likely often left alone at home and don't have many real life adult role models. They watch more violent TV. They are sometimes raised with fear and by abusive parents. But what I don't get is; why does one kid turn out a bully and another one that might have lived under the same circumstances doesn't. Or turns out to be a victim?”

“Like you,” Jack concluded. He knew Daniel had been neglected in at least one foster home and abused in another. 

“Yeah. Maybe. But what if both kids are from the same parents. Hypothetically?”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

Jack bit back the question why Daniel had chosen to dig up this part of his childhood now. He had stalled and balked at the request to talk about his first childhood in therapy. Had told Svenson point blank he wasn't going to work through that no matter how much she wanted him to.

Why now?

Jack decided to play it by ear – something he’d gotten quite good at. “You had a very strong bond with your parents. They taught you a lot of important things. I believe that has something to do with it. And you're just... you. I guess whatever happened to you later, you never forgot the things your mom and dad taught you. It made you strong.”

“Strong? You know I've been a bully victim as a kid.”

“Yes. But did they manage to break you? No. You turned out to be stronger than all of them in the end. Mind over matter, Daniel, that's you.”

Daniel gave him a lopsided smile. “Thank you.”

“Hey. For what it's worth, I think bullies only terrorize others to make themselves look stronger. I guess it's the need to feel better than others. To show strength where there's none. I guess some pass down the abuse they suffer at home, using the bullying as an outlet. Maybe some bullies are scared of geeks. Ever thought about that? Your brain freaks me out at times.” Like right at this moment. “Hell, Carter's brain is downright creepy. If I didn't know I'm perfect in every other possible way, I'd be pretty depressed about my small IQ.” 

The smile grew bigger. “Ja-ack.”

“What? Me dumb colonel. You genius boy.” He sobered and mirrored Daniel's position, elbows on the table, chin placed in his hands. “You wouldn't have this conversation with Doctor Svenson, would you? So that she can take it apart and analyze it word for word?”

“I... no.”

“Didn't think you would.” He suppressed a sigh. Well, Svenson would point out the fact Daniel was talking about these things at all was progress. Jack wasn't a shrink and he could only deal with things the way it felt best and hope he somehow got it right.

“But you can tell her,” Daniel said suddenly. “As long as I don't have to go through it with her myself.” He dropped his eyes to the rough wooden table top. “Guess I freaked you out just now, did I?”

“Uh, no. Not freaked here.” He winced under Daniel's scrutinizing look. “Okay, yes. A little. Didn't see this coming.” 

“I'm sorry,” Daniel offered subdued. 

“Hey. There's no need to be sorry for anything.” Jack reached across the table and tapped Daniel's nose. “You keep me on my toes. That's a good thing.”

“I guess.” The smile was somewhat strained, but Jack knew better than to force the conversation to continue. 

He assumed something Daniel discussed with Svenson on Friday had triggered this train of thought. Sometimes it was a totally unrelated subject that caused the kid to remember long forgotten or suppressed events from his first childhood. If he had gotten off his chest what was bothering him by sharing this bit, it was all good.

If there was more to it, Jack would find out sooner or later.

“What do you think about ice cream?”

Now the smile was genuine. “Chocolate chip cookie dough?”

“Yeahsureyabetcha.”

“I'll get it!” Up and off he was, scampering inside and startling the dog who was dozing in the living room where it was cooler than outside. 

Jack wished Daniel's heartaches and problems could seriously be cured with ice cream.


	3. How Daniel Jackson O'Neill beat the Devil III

**V**

Monday was filled with more fascinating paper work.

Jack sat at his desk, doodling on his note pad. If this was what he'd be doing for the rest of his working career, he'd be bored to death pretty soon. With a sigh he snatched the next folder off the pile. Jack had a feeling Hammond was leaving more and more of his own paperwork to him. He’d been executive officer of the base for seven years, but he’d never had to put up with that much paper work. Of course, he'd been the leader of SG-1 until recently. Come to think of it - who had done Jack's paperwork back then?

And going to organize Homeworld Security meant even more paperwork. HWS would probably leave the ground next spring and Jack wondered if he'd end up being head of the new department. Hammond had hinted at giving him a star. It was scary. Yet, probably inevitable. And wasn't that what he'd worked his ass off for all these years? Getting the star? Wasn’t he aiming to make it to general?

Maybe. Maybe not. He hadn’t thought about it much since he’d been pulled out of retirement to take lead of SG-1. He'd liked his job. Liked it a lot, even with all its downsides. Had liked being 2IC of the base, too, without having to always be here and do the crappy paperwork.

Well, apparently that had changed now. He grimaced and signed another file.

However, becoming head honcho of HWS included moving to DC sooner or later. Jack and Hammond had a silent agreement though. As long as he was needed here to help Daniel in his quest he wouldn't take on any permanent position elsewhere if he had any say in it. He was happy to help build HWS and get people going. But he wouldn't leave the SGC until Daniel was big again. Hammond had promised to have his back about this should someone at the Pentagon have other ideas.

After that he probably wouldn't mind a change of venue.

His office door was flung open, interrupting Jack's thought process. Jackson entered wearing a stern look.

“Hey,” Jack said, welcoming the distraction despite the stormy blue eyes that met his. “What's up?”

“Can you explain to me why you felt it necessary to beat up my neighbor?” 

Beat up his neighbor? Hello? ”I didn't beat him up.”

“You slammed him against a wall and stuck a gun into his face,” Jackson snapped.

“I thought he was gonna mug you.”

“He was feeding my fish.”

“So he told me.”

“Jack...” Jackson scrunched up his face, his eyebrows knitting. Finally he seemed to make up his mind and shrugged. “Okay, I guess I should have told you he might be at my place when you dropped the bike off.”

“What do you think about the bike?” Jack was happy to change the subject.

“I haven’t been home yet. We got back pretty late last night and I stayed in my quarters. Talked to Fergus on the phone. But I'm going home soon to get a couple more books I need. I'm gonna look at it. I'm sure it's great.” 

“It's a little more damaged than the picture on the auction page made us believe, but I think he's gonna like it.” 

Jackson placed his hands on the back of a chair in front of Jack's desk. “Are you okay with the bike? I mean, does this bother you a lot?”

When Jack just glared at him, Jackson grimaced and gave a one shoulder shrug. “Okay, I guess what I'm trying to say is; does it bother you so much that you'd rather... See, I know we sort of ganged up on you, but I didn't think you'd give in if you were seriously against it. We thought a little nudging couldn't hurt.”

Part of Jack wanted to make him suffer. See a little bit of guilt in Jackson's eyes. He knew if he pressed hard enough there'd be guilt. But the man was right. He wouldn't have given in if he'd really thought Daniel wasn't ready for a little freedom. This was Jack's personal issue. Not Daniel's. He had realized that pretty soon. He just wasn't willing to admit it.

Interpreting his silence wrong, Jackson licked his lips and eyed Jack carefully. “Just.. If you changed your mind, let Daniel know, okay? He's kind of anxious. I think he feels bad about the way we bullied you into it and now he's wondering if he should just tell you he doesn't want the bike anymore. To make you feel better. And I probably shouldn't tell you that.”

“Jackson, I bought the bike. How would I change my mind now?” Jack raised his left eyebrow. ”I talked to Hammond on Friday.”

“Then let him know,” Jackson urged. “He needs that reassurance from you. He thinks you don't trust him.”

_Oh, here we go..._ “For crying out loud...”

“You didn't exactly embrace the idea,” Jackson reminded him dryly.

No, he didn't. He still didn't. “I'll talk to him.”

“Good. And don't shoot my neighbor again, okay?” Adult Daniel grinned and swiftly turned to leave.

“I didn't shoot him!” Jack hollered after him. 

  
  


It was late when he walked into LD's office to pry him away from his treaty-translation. Normally he didn't indulge Daniel on his many requests to work longer. But Hammond had given this mission top priority so Jack had yielded on this one. He wouldn't make it a habit though.

The kid was perched on his chair, glasses hanging on the tip of his nose, hair sticking out in all directions. He looked like a mini-professor. Well, he was a mini-professor, Jack reminded himself. He didn't smother the smile at the sight of Daniel. There was a pen stuck behind his right ear.

Priceless.

“Time to go home, buddy.” He stepped next to Daniel, picked a book and flipped through it. 

“There's a bookmark at page 258. Don't lose it.” Daniel told him without looking up from his work. Jack placed the book back on the desk, making sure the bookmark stayed in place. 

“Where's Jackson? Isn't he supposed to be working on these with you?”

“He's gone to his office to get his pencil sharpener. Mine broke.” Daniel caught his glasses before they could slide off his nose and pushed them upwards. “We're almost done. I think tomorrow. Right at the deadline.” 

“Good. Pack up for tonight. We'll order in pizza. It's way too late to cook.” 

Jackson breezed in carrying a pile of books and a pencil sharpener balanced on top of it. “Go home, Daniel. I'll finish this section today and we can work on the final paragraph tomorrow.” He pushed a stack of paper aside and put the books down. “Hey, Jack.”

“I could stay,” Daniel insisted.

“No, you can't.” Jack plucked the pencil from the munchkin's ear and whirled it between his long fingers. “Go, get changed. I already have, which means I gave you some extra time anyway.”

“This treaty...”

“Will be done tomorrow. You just said so. Click your heels together, Dorothy. I'll meet you at the elevator in ten.”

Daniel snorted, muttered something under his breath and stomped off.

Jackson raised his eyebrows. “It's really time for him to go home. Just so you know – he's been working his tail off for this treaty. He deserves huge credit for this.”

“I know. He's never anything less than one hundred percent. Sounds familiar? He's not trying to turn this into a competition though, is he?”

“No. We're good. Why?”

“I don't know.” Jack frowned. “Something's up. I'm just not sure what it is. I'll talk to him about the bike tonight.”

“Hey, I looked at it. It's great.” Jackson gave him that smile that meant he had done something absolutely right. Jack mentally clapped himself on the shoulder. 

“I'll get the tool set tonight and a gift certificate for Home Depot so he can get paint and whatever else he needs.”

“Nice.” 

Carter was going to contribute the money for a helmet and Teal'c had insisted on wimples and playing cards for the wheels and a new honkin' horn and whatever fancy stuff Daniel wanted for this bike. The big guy was probably overdoing it a bit. Daniel wasn't a fancy kinda guy. But hey, Jack had never known his kid wanted a bike in the first place. So who knew what kind of ideas he’d have next?

***

On their way home from the mountain Daniel wondered if Alistair was still at the tree house. He needed to talk to him about those kids. There had to be something they could do. Together. But then, facing those morons meant Daniel had to leave the yard. Alone. Without permission. He could ask Jack, but then he had to tell him everything which meant many uncomfortable questions and would probably make the whole plan a no go.

Not that he had a plan yet.

The one rule he knew was to ignore bullies. To stand brave and tall and try to be confident even if you're not. That wasn't much different from dealing with a Goa'uld. Though for some reason Daniel preferred the Goa'uld over having to face a bully. Okay, maybe not. But he remembered how paralyzed he had been last summer at the playground when that one boy had called him four-eyes and threatened to push him down the slide. How little and weak he had felt. Despite the knowledge that he wasn't. Not anymore. He'd fallen back into his first childhood behavior.

But he wasn't that weak anymore. He knew he could take on those kids. Verbally and maybe even physically if he had to. Things had changed.

They needed a plan. If he really got a bike for his birthday he would be more mobile and maybe he'd come up with a great strategy on how to get rid of those bullies by then. Scare them away. Show them they couldn't push smaller kids around just because they felt like it. Stomping down all the buts and ifs, Daniel decided this was – for now – the best he could do and hope for.

Then again Hammond probably wouldn't grant the bike anyway...

They ordered pizza and took the dog for a short walk. Flyboy wasn't edgy tonight so Daniel reckoned nobody was at the tree house.

It was still very warm outside so they had their pizza on the deck. The sun was about to set and Daniel was tired. But the pizza was delicious and they traded slices so they could try both kinds.

Suddenly Jack said, “I talked to Hammond about your bike.”

He almost choked on his mouth full of salami and cheese. “You... you did?”

“Yep. He cleared it. I thought I'd let you know so you can stop worrying about it.”

“Oh,” Daniel said lamely not sure how to react. Not sure how to feel, either.

Jack stared at him. “Oh? That's all, just 'Oh'?”

“That's, uh, great. Thanks.”

“Yeah. I can see you're so overjoyed.” 

“I am. I, it's cool. Really. I'm just... I didn't think he would grant it. So, I'm surprised.”

“But,” Jack raised a finger, “the more important question is; are you happy?”

Daniel tried to crank up his enthusiasm enough for Jack to let it go. He grinned. “Yeah! Sure, I am.”

“Could've fooled me,” Jack said, eyes narrowing.

He wondered what Jack would think if he knew there was a kid hiding in the tree house and that Daniel planned to use his new bike and the freedom that hopefully came with it to fight a gang of bullies? He wondered how many of Jack's rules he was going to break right at his first trip out there alone? It was the right thing to do. Helping Alistair. Daniel knew as much.

What he wasn't sure about was HOW to do it without getting into trouble.

He pushed his pizza box over to Jack and hopped from his chair. “I'm full. And tired. I better get ready for bed. We need to be in early tomorrow.” He should have known, though, he wouldn't get away that easily. Fast retreats like this always got Jack suspicious. His arm was caught in a gentle but firm grip and he was pulled to a stop before he could make it past Jack's chair.

In the fleeing daylight Jack's brown eyes were darker than usual when he looked at Daniel. “Look, I'd be lying if I told you I'm beaming with delight over your bike wish. But I said yes and I meant it. I won't change my mind and I'll back off and let you have your independence - within reasons.”

Swallowing, Daniel gazed at his bare feet and the wooden deck. “I'll get into trouble,” he said darkly. “I always do sooner or later.” Now probably sooner than he ever intended to. Not that he had intended to get in trouble when he’d voiced his wish for a bike in the first place.

Jack didn't say: No, you won't. He didn't say: I told you so. Gently squeezing the arm he was still holding, he said, “Maybe you will. And if you do, we'll deal with it. We've dealt with trouble before. We're storm proofed, you and me.” He paused, his fingers absently petting Daniel's arm in a soothing manner. “I guess I should admit I'm more concerned somebody could kidnap you. But whatever you do out there, Daniel... promise me to always wear that GPS. I know it's no guarantee if someone takes you off this planet, but it'll make me feel better knowing you're wearing it in case the NID guys get a hold of ya.”

“I'm not afraid of the NID or anyone. I don't think they want me. I just hate to... disappoint you,” Daniel whispered. _Even if I think I'm doing the right thing_ , he added silently

There was a long pause and Daniel shuffled his feet. Jack's finger touched his jaw, making him look up. “Just work with me here. Get with the program as good as you can. Is all I'm asking you to do. Nobody's perfect. Not you, not me. Nobody expects you to be. I'm sorry if I gave you the impression I don't trust you. I do. I trusted you in Egypt when we dealt with Pierson. In Antarctica when you had to talk to Aiyana. On Abydos.... even though you disobeyed at least a dozen orders. And in Honduras.”

“I didn't do anything useful in Honduras. Aside from translating that text.”

“You stayed put. You did the right thing.” Jack stood and put an arm around his shoulders. “Just try to mind the curfew and don't race cars. We'll figure this out. Okay?”

Letting Jack lead him inside, Daniel nodded not trusting himself to say anything.

  
  


On Tuesday they wrapped up the treaty and BD gated out with SG-6 to get the signing done. When they returned and BD gave the thumbs up, meaning the treaty was sealed, Hammond “ordered” Daniel to take the rest of the week off.

Of course he objected. First he had work to do and secondly … though he didn't point out that part... Alistair couldn't hide at the tree house that easily if they were home. But the general would have none of it. He pointed out Jack had leave stored up, too. There was one meeting on Friday Jack couldn't dodge and he had to take paperwork home, but both men assured Daniel taking the rest of the week off was a great idea.

“That way you'll be fresh and recharged on Monday. And I believe you have a party to prepare for, son,” Hammond said fondly.

They left and Jack treated them both to Starbucks with no restrictions to Daniel's choice of coffee even though it was after lunchtime. They made plans to go swimming and have a picnic at the park tomorrow, and Daniel warmed up to that idea quickly. It would be fun and that way Alistair could stay at the tree house without trouble. Maybe he could find something for them to do on Thursday, too.

Everything was great. The weather, the caramel Frappuchino with the extra shot of espresso, the piece of chocolate cake they shared. Why couldn't it always be like this? Why couldn't they always get along and have peaceful quiet days? There had been so many days like this lately, weeks even. The little bickering didn't count, it was what made their life comfortable. Daniel wanted to keep it that way.

He wished he had told Alistair to leave and not to come back the first time he had met him. But that would have meant he'd denied the boy his help. He wished he had told Jack about the other kid right away. Squirming in his seat on their way back home Daniel remembered Tink-ah's planet and how badly things had gotten out of hand.

This had to stop now.

“You know, I wish you'd share what's eating you up,” Jack's voice ripped him out of his thoughts and Daniel realized they had already parked in their driveway.

“Oh, we're home.” He hurried out of the truck and freed the dog from the backseat. Flyboy made a beeline for the yard. And parked his butt at the tree house stairs, barking wildly.

They both looked on and Daniel rubbed his temples. They were home early today. Damn. Jack cocked his head. “I wonder what's up there that has him so jazzed.”

“I...” he began, then bit his lip. 

“Well, I better check it out.” Jack started moving, but Daniel caught his hand and pulled him to a halt. 

“Wait! I can explain it.” He let go of Jack's hand and ran over to his tree house. Crouching beside his dog he told him to stop and leave it, first in English then in Egyptian. Once Flyboy had calmed down, Daniel turned to Jack who had followed him and was attempting to climb the stairs. 

“Don't. I'll explain. But Alistair's afraid of Flyboy. We have to take him into the house first.”

Jack's eyebrows wandered upwards. “Alistair? You named whatever critter you're hiding up there after Alistair Moody? That guy from Harry Potter?”

“Err... no. That would be Alestor Moody, not Alistair.” Daniel took Flyboy's collar and led him away from the tree house. “He already had the name when I met him.”

“This one I gotta hear,” Jack muttered as he followed. 

***

What Jack finally heard was so far from anything he had expected, it rendered him speechless for once. He'd had a suspicion Daniel was hiding a stray kitten in the tree house. Or another raccoon. Anything but a kid with issues … of course now some pieces fell together. Like the bully discussion and why Daniel had been spending so much time up there again lately.

Refraining from rolling his eyes, Jack stared at Daniel's flushed face and the guilt written all over it, paired with stubborn determination. “I have to help him, Jack. And I have to do it alone.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” Jack asked flummoxed.

“At first I didn't really think he'd come back. When I found his bag I thought he'd grab it and leave. I didn't want you to get anxious because it's so easy to break into the tree house.”

Now Jack  _did_ roll his eyes. “Daniel, I'm aware how easy it is to break into your tree house. Why do you think I won't let you spend the night alone up there and want you inside after dark?”

“Uh...” Daniel blushed an even darker red.

“And when he did come back you didn't tell me, why? And does this remind you of when Nashi came back and you didn't tell me?” 

“I told him he could come back and hide...”

“That's not answering my question. I can't believe this has been going on right under my nose and I didn't know.” Sneaky little bug. Jack scowled at the small figure at his kitchen table. 

“He needed a hiding place,” Daniel repeated. 

Hiding, eh? Jack knew someone in need of a good hiding. Though he didn't voice any threats of consequences just yet. If he had learned one thing about Daniel – especially the little one – it was always better to hear the whole story first. He continued to glare. Daniel had the grace to look a bit nervous. Licking his lips he continued, “If I told you, you would have wanted to call his parents.”

“Which would have been the sensible thing to do, don't you think?”

“Actually, no.” Daniel returned his glare. “No, it wouldn't. Because telling his parents would make things worse for Alistair. It always does.” A visible tremor ran through the kid and he wrapped his arms around himself so tightly Jack almost heard the small ribs crack.

This was SO not good.

In an attempt to stop glowering he sat down across the kitchen table from Daniel. “Okay, answer this one; is he a runaway?”

Daniel shook his head. “His parents work a lot and his brother is one of the kids who bully him so he doesn't want to stay home.”

“Maybe he's supposed to be somewhere at daycare then.”

“I... I don't know about that. He didn't tell. But if he doesn't go there then maybe it's because those kids are there, too.”

“Swell.” Jack needed a drink. Or a Tylenol. There sure as hell was a headache creeping up on him. “Do you know if he's in any other kind of trouble?”

“No.”

“No, you don't know or no, he isn't?”

“I don't know. But he's not the type of kid to get into trouble. He's... uh... a geek. Like me I guess.”

“And we know _you_ never get into trouble.” Jack knew it was a low blow and winced at the hurt flash over Daniel's face. Suppressing a sigh he shook his head. “What exactly DO you know about that kid?”

“He's about my... apparent age. He has a brother. His dad is some manager and his mom's a doctor. They work all day. He's gifted in math and he's good with computers.”

“That's it? You are giving shelter to a kid in your tree house you know next to nothing about?” Oh, of course this was Daniel Jackson, peaceful explorer. The guy who told Jack not to shoot the Destroyer of Worlds because she was a brand new person now. The guy who made friends with an Unas. 

“I know enough. I know he needs help.” The imp managed to look tall and stubborn even with his arms still wrenched around himself. “It's all I need to know.”

_Oh, for crying out..._ “Get him down here.”

“No.”

“I just want to talk to him.”

“No.”

“ _Daniel_.”

“I don't want him to run. If he feels like he can't hide here anymore he might not come back.”

There. Wouldn't that be an easy fix of the whole mess? Jack knew better than to say that out loud though. He spread his hands on the table top, flexing his fingers.

“Daniel.” He paused and schooled his voice into calm and reasonable. “The best way to help that kid is to talk to his parents. Hiding him away up there won't make things better. You of all people know that. I'm a little shocked you didn't think of a better solution.”

“I want to help him to face those kids. To get rid of them.” 

“How?”

“I'm still in the process of working that out. But once I have my bike,” he stopped short, blushing again. “I mean... I was thinking we'd find them and...”

“Oh, I can see it now,” Jack said acidly. “You and your new friend ride up to those kids and give them a good talking to. Is that it?”

“It can't be worse than baiting Goa'uld, can it?” Daniel snarled back at him. “And we know I was good at that.”

“Yeah? So? Last time I checked you wouldn't even be in the same room with other kids, let alone talk to them. Now you want to negotiate a peace treaty with some punks?” 

“Stop it! Don't!” Daniel pushed his chair back with so much force it toppled over and crashed to the ground, stunning them both into silence for a moment. 

“I know I can't talk to them. That's the whole point. They'll never stop until we really fight back,” he ground out finally.

“Oh sure. Want me to get you a zat so you can stun them? And then what? You think you beat them once and they'll leave you alone?” Jack knew they both had to back off. If they continued bitching at one another like this there'd be tears and slammed doors pretty soon. But even after all this time it was still too easy to fall back into the old pattern of arguing the way they used to when Daniel had been big. 

“Well, maybe that's the only language they understand!” Daniel huffed. “You tell me. You're the one who shoots first and asks questions later! You seem to think that's what'll work most of the times.” 

“Yes, but you don't,” Jack said, once more controlling his temper. “Not you, Daniel. But if you seriously think talking to them won't work... beating them up won't help your friend either. I'm saying tell his parents. Let them deal with it. This isn't your fight.”

“Yes. It is. In more ways than you think.”

“Look, I see how you feel responsible...”

“No. No you don't get it, Jack. I was him. For so many years I was him. First at school, later at one of the foster homes. Then in college. It never stopped. It never will stop for him unless he learns to stand up for himself. He has to learn to defend himself. To fight back.”

Daniel Jackson O'Neill was on a mission here. Jack had the option of either force him to let it go – which would be nasty since Daniel wouldn't go down without a major fight - or tag along trying to prevent disaster from happening. He had the unsettling feeling he wasn't in command of this one no matter how hard he'd come down on the Wretch. Yet, he wasn't willing to be nothing more than a bystander.

Exhaling deeply he said, “You don't have to do this alone.”

“Yes, I do. For me. Can you understand that? I need to do this alone.”

Jack got an inkling how huge this was, how important for Daniel. But he wouldn't stand down. “I want to get to know that kid. And I want you to promise me not to do anything utterly stupid.”

Daniel picked up his chair and sat down on it. “You won't call his parents.”

“No promises.”

“Please?” 

Jack pursed his lips. If he gave an inch... Then again it was probably better to compromise than risk having Daniel going on a vendetta on his own. “I won't call anyone today. That's all I can give you.” He gestured at the back door. “Go, get him. I think there's still ice cream in the freezer.”

It took a while for Daniel to pry the other kid out of the tree house. Then the boy didn't want to come in until Jack had put the dog into Daniel's room and shut the door.

Finally he was faced with two boys sitting in his sunny kitchen. Alistair gobbled down the ice cream like he hadn't had anything to eat in ages. The new kid on the block was probably eight or nine. His brown hair was longer than Daniel's and his green eyes anxiously darted back and forth between Jack and Daniel while he stuffed himself with chocolate chip cookie dough.

While Daniel actually had developed a bit of muscle mass due to his work out with Teal'c, Alistair was scrawny and didn't look like he spent much time in the sun either. Geek cliche. Exactly the kind of kid Daniel had talked about on Sunday. Except for the glasses. Alistair didn't wear glasses.

“So, Al... you live around here?” Jack made himself a cup of coffee. He had to raise his voice a little over the loud rumble of the espresso machine. 

Daniel shot him a dirty look, but he just shrugged. He’d promised not to call anyone, he hadn’t said he wouldn't ask questions.

Al swallowed his ice cream and said, “Yes, sir. Just two streets away.”

“Is there anyone you should call to let them know you're over here?”

Al blushed and stuttered. “I... I don't know. My parents work all day. There's nobody home.” He cast a quick glance at Daniel then at the back door.

Jack leaned against his kitchen counter and sipped his coffee. “Okay. You have a phone with you?”

“Jack!” Daniel snapped. 

Alistair slowly pulled a phone from his jeans. “It's for emergencies only.”

“Here's what I want you to do. I want you to call your mom or dad and let them know you're over here. You're welcome to stay, but you need to let your folks know where you are. Okay?” Jack aimed for a non threatening tone, the one he used when he tried to reason with an upset Daniel. 

“I'm supposed to be at daycare,” Alistair said, as if that explained everything. 

“And you don't think they're gonna call your folks to ask where you've been?”

”Um.” 

“Jack, let it be.”

“Fine. That's between you and your parents, I guess. But I want you to call them and let them know you're over here now.” 

“Jack!”

“I'm sorry, Daniel, but if he's supposed to be at daycare he can't be here.” He wasn't trying to scare the kid away, but he wouldn't be part of any scam the boy played with his folks.

“'kay.” Al typed in a speed dial number while Jack's own kid still shot daggers at him.

Al bit his lip the way Daniel usually did as he talked to his dad telling him he’d met a friend, gone home with him and that he was invited to stay. All the while he was giving Jack little anxious looks and his ears were the color of ripe cherries.

Daniel's piercing eyes locked onto Jack's. Jack raised his eyebrows in return. He wasn't going to take the blame if this kid's parents came home early and their kid was gone AWOL.

Jack put his empty coffee mug on the counter as he watched the new kid shut his phone down. Alistair turned to Daniel and gave him a vicious look. “You promised,” he choked out with barely suppressed anger. “You promised your dad wouldn't make me call them. You promised he'd understand! I only came down 'cuz you promised! Now I have to find a new place to hide!” He jumped up and stormed out the back door, Daniel on his heels.

“Alistair, wait! Don't run! I thought he would! Wait!” The door slammed shut behind Daniel.

Jack glared at the still vibrating door. “Aw, crap.” He pushed off the counter and went after them.

Daniel had caught Alistair at the end of their driveway and was talking a mile a minute, gesturing with both hands to underline whatever he was trying to get across. Jack caught up to the boys and, placing a hand on each kid's shoulder, steered them back to the house.

Why did things always have to become complicated around Daniel? Never mind. He ushered them into the kitchen. Both kids complied only reluctantly, but didn't try to break away or argue. Firmly closing the door behind himself Jack said, “Daniel, why don't you take your new friend here to your room...”

“The dog's in there,” Alistair squeaked. 

“Daniel, let the dog into the backyard,” Jack ordered. The Wretch hurried out and Alistair stood at the back door apparently ready to run at the next best opportunity. 

Oy.

“I don't bite, you know.” Jack said finally. “Daniel didn't lie to you. But you guys have to understand that I can't support you lying to your folks. If they find out you're over here and not at daycare I get into trouble, too.”

“Why?” Al's eyes went big.

“Your parents might think Jack kept you here against your will or something,” Daniel grudgingly admitted as he returned. 

“Oh.” Al's shoulders slumped. “I'm sorry, sir.”

“That's okay. Go and play. I'll call you when dinner is ready.” He never thought he'd see his kid having a friend over. This was weird on many levels. Jack watched the two boys leave with mixed emotions. 

Then he went to call the mountain. Jackson was currently debriefing the team which would oversee the mining process on the planet of their new allies. So Jack left a message for him to call ASAP. He needed some intel here.

***

“Cool,” Alistair remarked at seeing the palms and pyramid painting on the wall of Daniel's room. “Did you do that?”

“Yes. It reminds me of Egypt.”

“What was it like living in Egypt? Isn't it very hot there?”

“Yeah.” The boys settled on Daniel's bed. “It's hot. And sandy. But I loved it. Have you ever been in a desert?” 

“Nevada. The Death Valley,” Alistair said. “We were on vacation in Las Vegas. Well, my dad had to work there and he took me and Bryan.” He shrugged. “At the end of our first week Bryan accidentally pushed me down a stairway and I broke my arm. I missed out on the rest of the vacation because I had to stay at the hospital. I'm clumsy, you know.”

Daniel stared. “No,” he said. “I don't think you are.”

“Okay, I'm not. But my parents think I am. It's easier for them that way. They have enough problems.” Alistair's eyes fell on Daniel's laptop. “Do you have computer games?”

“Settlers,” Daniel said absently.

“I have Tomb Raider. And SIMS.”

“We need to do something about those bullies.” Daniel balled his hands. He was so angry. How could Alistair's brother abuse him even when his parents were around and nobody noticed? How could Alistair pretend to be clumsy when his brother pushed him down a stairway? But he knew. He had done the same. Had tried to hide his bruises from his teachers and his social worker. Until he’d ended up in that hospital.

Alistair shrugged. “What?”

“Jack says we have to tell your parents.”

“They're never around anyway.”

“Do you... do you think they'll even believe you?” Daniel asked.

“Maybe. They're not mean or anything. Just busy.”

“So they can't protect you even if they believe you. They have to work and Bryan and you go to the same school.”

“It's not the same school, just the same complex. And I have to go over to the high school for my math and digital arts classes. Bryan and one of the others are in my digital art class so I can't avoid seeing them at school either.” 

“Okay. So, even if they'd put you into another school you'd still have to face your brother at home.” 

“Huh-huh. Bryan hates me. Maybe because I'm smarter or maybe just because I'm the baby. That's what he keeps saying. I'm the baby and everyone just spoils me.”

“How many are there?” 

“Three. Bryan, Chuck and Mitch. And Mitch's dog Buster.”

“Have you ever tried to fight back at all?” Daniel tried not to make the mental connection. Three boys. Three older boys. He hated where his thoughts were leading him. Gritting his teeth, he focused on Alistair, who shook his head. 

“They're 13. They're on the football team and they just push me down and pounce on me. I have no chance.”

Daniel grabbed his pillow and wrapped his arms around it. “Did they ever rub your face into the dirt and tell you to eat sand? It's good for your guts they said.”

“No. But they made me eat earthworms once.”

“My glasses broke and they stomped on them, saying only losers need glasses.”

“That's nasty,” Al murmured. “I'm sorry.”

Daniel threw his pillow across the room and it bounced off the opposite wall before falling to the floor. He didn't throw items anymore. But right now it felt good. So good. He wanted to smash something. He was so angry.

“Nobody.” He had to restrain himself from yelling. “Nobody has the right to do this to us. No brother, no other kid, no adult. We are no different from them. They don't have the right.”

“But they can do it. We can't fight them. We're just geeks.”

“It's not true. It's not fucking true. Geeks can fight, too. We can learn to be fast and strong. We can use words to fight... but we can use our fists, too. Whatever we want we can do.” 

Daniel had learned all of it. He wouldn't choose violence over peaceful solutions if there was even the tiniest chance of not having to use his fists or worse. But if he had to, he could. He had been as capable of defending his team and himself as Jack and Sam. He might not have the mindset of a military guy, but he could act like one if forced to do so.

He had killed to save his friends and himself. He wasn't proud of it, but he knew he was capable. And he had learned that being a child again didn't change entirely who he was or what he was capable off. Not all of it.

When he realized that Al was staring at him open mouthed, he swallowed. “What?”

“You said the “f” word,” Alistair breathed utterly impressed.

“What?”

“You said...” Alistair coughed, then squeaked, “Fucking.” 

Oh. For some reason that was utterly funny and they burst out laughing. Giggling, they rolled over the bed and Daniel almost fell down which made them giggle even more. Channeling his anger into giddiness, Daniel found himself laughing hysterically. He sort of felt more like crying, but when Alistair whispered, “Oh fuck,” again, they burst into new salves of laughter.

When they calmed down, Daniel was lying on his bed while Alistair sat on the floor, eying Daniel's books on the shelves next to his desk. “You read a lot.”

“Yeah.”

“Cool.”

He chewed on his lip an idea suddenly hovering at the corner of his mind. It wasn't fully developed yet, but... “Do you want to learn how to fight, Alistair?”

“You can call me Al like your dad did.”

“Oh, okay. Al. Do you want to learn how to fight?”

Al shrugged. “I dunno. Who'd teach me anyway?”

Daniel knew he had told Jack he didn't want his help. That he had to face this alone. But Jack wouldn't back off anyway. Jack would want to help and know what Daniel was going to do. So maybe it was okay to take advantage of this. Maybe he could take the help that was offered...

“Jack could. Or Murray.”

“Your dad? And who's Murray?”

“Murray is a friend of Jack's. They work together. He teaches me...” Daniel trailed off, not sure if he was supposed to share any of this. “Martial arts,” he finally ended. 

“You do fighting sports?” Al's eyes grew big. “No way.” 

“Um, yeah. A little. Sort off. I'm not very good. But I can defend myself if I have to.” Of course. Why hadn't he thought of that before? It would take a while longer until they could deal with this, but Al's chances were a lot better, if... “It helps to get rid of the fear if nothing else,” Daniel said. “If you want to get rid of them you have to stop being scared of them first.”

Al shook his head. “No way. I can't do that. How can you not be scared of them? You should see them! They're BIG. I mean, REALLY huge! Like... I don't know... bulls.”

“They're thirteen. How big can they possibly be,” Daniel said annoyed.

“They just seem that big,” Al insisted. “They are.”

“They're just kids like us. Only a bit older.” He listened to his own words and almost had to smile. 'Kids like us'. That didn't sound all that bad. It sounded better than 'Kids like me'. There were no kids like Daniel out there. But maybe he'd found a real friend today. A friend 'his current age' as Doctor Svenson would call it. Wouldn't that be kind of... cool? 

There was a knock and the door opened as Jack stuck his head into the room. “Kids, dinner is ready.”

Daniel felt a little guilty knowing it was his turn to cook this week. But Jack had made pasta and meatballs and it smelled delicious.

While they ate, he carefully tested the water. “Jack? Since we have the rest of the week off... do you think Al could come over here instead of going to daycare?”

Jack frowned. “Aw, I don't know...”

“It's fine. We could play on the computer and, uh, do stuff.”

“I thought we were going to the park tomorrow?” 

“We could all go,” Daniel blurted out. So much for his diplomatic skills. “I mean... I'm sure it'll be fun,” he added lamely. He hoped it would be. Probably. Possibly. Then again it could be a total disaster. It usually was when he got involved with other kids. 

Jack gave him the hairy eyeball. “First off that's not for me to decide. Al has to ask his parents for permission.”

“Yes, I know. But...”

“Secondly,” Jack raised his voice just enough to shut Daniel up momentarily, “can we talk about this first?” He added a mouthed, “Alone.” 

Al looked miserable and shrugged. “That's okay. I can just stay at the tree house.”

“Didn't we just establish you can't stay here without letting your folks know?” Jack put his fork down and glowered at Al, too, now.

“Oh, I'll let them know,” Al mumbled, eyes glued to his plate, and Daniel stared at him. Did he really think Jack would buy that?

“Yeah, right. And pigs can fly.” Jack shook his head. 

Al flinched at the sarcastic tone. He clearly wasn't used to Jack-speak.

“Jack, stop it. You're scaring him,” Daniel admonished.

“It's okay,” Al murmured, sliding from his chair. “I'll find some place else to stay for the rest of the summer. Thank you for dinner, Colonel O'Neill.” 

“The rest of the summer?” asked Jack.

“Um...” Al blushed. 

“You intended to hide out in Daniel's tree house all summer long?” 

Al gave a little nod.

Jack shot Daniel a glare. “And you told him that's okay?”

“Um, ye-ah.” Daniel ducked his head, hastily shoving a forkful of pasta into his mouth.

“How serious exactly is this bully problem you have there, kid?” 

“Oh, it's not really that...” 

“It's bad,” Daniel cut Al off. “Very. Bad.” 

For his declaration he received a “We'll talk later” glare before Jack turned back to address Al in a much more gentle way. “Is there anyone you can talk to? A teacher, a social worker at school?” Daniel let out a low snort at the idea of talking to a social worker and received another glare. “Your grandparents? Any other relatives?”

“No. My grandparents live in Idaho, my other grandparents are both gone.” Al scrunched up his face. “I... maybe I could talk to Mister Robertson. He was my digital arts teacher last year. He was very nice. But it'll only get worse if I talk.”

“You're talking to me,” Jack encouraged. “Sure you could talk to someone else, too.”

Al shrugged, then said shyly, “Daniel... Daniel said you could maybe, um... help me. You, um, and Mr. Murray.”

Daniel looked at a fascinating spot of sauce on the table by his plate.

“Me and Mr. Murray,” Jack drawled. “I see. And did Daniel tell you how exactly me and Mr. Murray would help you?” 

Taking a deep breath, Daniel faced Jack's dark eyes. “You could train him. Maybe take him running. And Murray could teach him some of what he taught me. A couple of moves, roll overs.”

“I don't think it's gonna work anyway,” Al chimed in shyly. 

“Well, Murray travels a lot. And I'm only off work this week.” Jack sent a scowl in Daniel's direction, then turned back to Al. “Fine. You can come over tomorrow if your parents let you. I want your mom or dad to call me though, to let me know it's okay. Everything else I have to sort out with Daniel here first. At this point I won't make any promises.”

Daniel sucked in his cheeks and bit on the insides to keep all his objections in. He was in enough trouble already and he didn't look forward to the 'sorting out' part at all. Jack would sort him out all right. Oh, joy.

They spent the rest of their dinner in silence and just when Jack told Daniel to start doing dishes the phone rang. As he loaded plates and pots into the dishwasher he heard Jack talking in the living room, but couldn't make out the words. Al lent him a hand and together they wiped the counter and stove.

“Thanks,” Daniel said, grateful for the help.

“I should go now. Bryan has football practice tonight and he'll go to one of his friends afterward. So I can go home.” Al jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Hey, your dad is a bit scary. But I like him. I think. He didn't throw me out. And he lets me come over.” Giving Daniel a lopsided smile he added. “You be in a lot of trouble because of me?” Al glanced across the dining room into the living room where Jack was still on the phone. 

Daniel had hoped to find a more diplomatic way to ask Jack to help. He had made all kinds of promises to Al without checking back with Jack first. Even though it was the right thing to do. To help. Jack wasn't happy.

“I'll deal. He'll calm down. Here...” He scribbled down their phone number.

“'kay. I'll better be going. If my parents allow me to come over tomorrow my dad's gonna call yours.”

“If they don't...” Daniel nervously glanced at the living room. “Could you stay somewhere else until he's calmed down? If he catches you at my tree house while you should be at daycare he's gonna bite my head off.”

“Don't think they mind.” He froze. “The dog is still out there.”

Daniel told Al to wait in the hallway while he took care of Flyboy. He let him in through the backdoor and Al out the front. When he stepped back inside he realized the house was quiet.

Jack was off the phone.

Squaring his small shoulders Daniel walked into the lion's den to face the music.

Jack sat on the couch, scowl firmly fixed on the dark TV screen, still cradling the phone between his calloused hands.

“Um,” Daniel began indistinctly, shuffling his feet. “For what it's worth, I'm, uh, sorry.” 

“Yeah, well...” Jack placed the phone on the coffee table. “You should have told me he was up there in the first place.”

“I know.”

“Daniel...” Jack scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “You can't make promises to that boy I won't be able to live up to.”

He waited for Jack to continue. To start yelling. But there was no yelling. Not even sarcastic bitching. Daniel moved closer and finally sat next to Jack on the edge of the couch.

“You could, you know, try.” He swallowed. This was a 'handle Jack with extreme care' situation. He could blow up any minute. “I said I didn't want your help. But I…” He wrung his hands and it took a lot of willpower to look at his friend. “I need your help. I was wrong and I'm sorry. Please help him?”

When Jack didn't say anything, Daniel continued, “You helped me, too. Back... Back then. You took me running, made me push weights, pulled and dragged me through the basic training lessons.”

“You were a guy, Daniel. Not an eight year old scared kid. You already had more guts than most guys I knew back then. All you needed was a bit of muscle mass to match up with your brain.”

“But you help me now, too. I know I don't always appreciate it, but you do. You and Teal'c. You help me cope.”

“It's still different. Teal'c's only reinforcing what you already could do before. He's just helping you to adjust to your smaller body. And showing you a couple more tricks.”

“It's not so different.” When Jack just continued to scowl, he added. “Not that much. I know Teal'c has trained Jaffa kids as well. He trained his son...“

“You can't compare Rya'c with your new buddy here. And you know that.”

“Jack?”

“What?”

“This is really important.”

“Yeah, I get that. But you can't just recruit me and Teal'c to turn your little friend into Karate Kid. You don't even know if it'll work for him.”

“He won't ever learn to stand up for himself if nobody shows him how. I could do, it but I'm not a teacher like Teal'c.”

To his amazement something close to a smile crossed Jack's face as he shook his head. “This is like you talking me into helping those Unas. Remember the slave planet?” Then the smile died. “Too bad it turned into a war in the end.”

“But it was still the right thing to do,” Daniel said. “Slavery isn't right.”

“Is revenge right, though?”

“No. But sometimes... it feels right.” Daniel slumped backwards on the couch and gazed at the ceiling. “Okay, revenge is wrong. I know that. I know violence leads to more violence in the end. But remember when one of our people was killed on the planet with the red sky? You were so mad you wanted to shoot the guy who tinkered with the...”

“And who stopped me?”

Daniel squinted at Jack. “We did,” he mumbled. “Sam, Teal'c and I.”

“Especially you.” 

“But this isn't about revenge.”

“It's not?” 

Daniel clenched his hands into fists and shook his head. “No. It's about being able to defend oneself. I want Al to lose his fear. Jack, his own brother his bullying him. Every single day. Can you imagine what's it like to...” Daniel swallowed. “No, I guess you can't.”

Jack nudged him. “How about a deal? I'll try to figure out a way to help Al and you tell me how this whole mess is linked to you.”

Daniel felt a spike of panic, but he remained calm on the outside. “Oh, you think this is really about me? That I'm on some kind of vendetta? That I'm trying to make up for something that happened to me? Did you take lessons from Svenson?”

“How am I doing?” There was the quirk of Jack's mouth that wasn't a smile yet, but somewhere close to a smirk. A good sign. Maybe. 

“You don't want me to answer that,” Daniel said dryly, then shrugged. “You know I was bullied as a kid. It's no secret.” If he played it right he might get away with this. It sounded like a reasonable explanation. 

“Any similarities between you and Al? Like... I don't know... you tell me.”

Daniel went very still as the cold hand clutched around his stomach again when realization hit. “On the phone earlier... That was Daniel, wasn't it? What did he tell you?”

“Nothing. But he mentioned there are a few things you should talk about,” Jack said softly. “And I think he's possibly right. Maybe it's time.”

“No.” Daniel slowly shook his head. 

“You know, I thought you'd say that. Told him so. He'll be here in a bit. Don't look at me like that.... It was his idea to come over. I was aiming for a quiet evening in front of my TV after I chewed you out good for hiding that kid in your tree house.”

“What makes you think I'm gonna talk? Him coming over here won't make me talk either. There's nothing to talk about. I had a few bad experiences, is all. If he thinks you need to know he can tell you. He shares those memories. All I'm trying to do is help Alistair so he won't have to go through this all his childhood and maybe longer.” Daniel wriggled from the couch and stomped off to his room, brimming with suppressed anger.

Or maybe he was just scared. He wasn't going to analyze his own feelings now. That's what the shrink was for, right? And last time he checked neither Jack nor BD were his therapists.

He expected Jack to follow him, but when there was no knock at the door Daniel sat on his bed and picked up his journal from the nightstand. Re-reading his last entry he grimaced. He reached for his pen and began to write, starting with the events of the day. Slowly his thoughts became more structured and his anger subsided.

Maybe it's time, Jack had said.

But Daniel wasn't ready. He was so used to burying these unwanted memories. He couldn't just jump over his shadow.

But maybe...

He clutched the leather-bound book tightly with one hand as he continued to scribble into it. Almost against his will, his pen scratched over the white pristine pages filling them with black ink, with words of his past...

A knock at his door made him pause. “Come in.” He could have refused. Could have said nothing or told his visitor to go away. But he gazed down at what he had written and knew he was – if not ready – then at least at a point where it would be immense work to push those ugly memories back into its closet. Such a big effort. He wasn't sure he wanted to waste so much energy and time in fighting against demons from so long ago.

Maybe it really was time.

BD entered and gently closed the door behind himself. Daniel craned his neck, but Jack wasn't with him.

“Hey,” his adult self said offering a smile that bordered more on a grimace.

“Hey.” Daniel stayed on his bed, the book open on his crossed legs. 

“Mind if I...” 

“No.”

BD sat on the bed next to Daniel, stretching out his long legs. He was wearing black sneakers, stone bleached faded jeans and a gray sweater. “I heard you took in a stray kid?”

“I guess Jack told you all about it.”

“Pretty much, yes.”

“He used to call Doctor Svenson when he was confused. Now apparently he calls you.” Daniel couldn't help the little sneer.

“Would you rather he called her?” BD waggled his eyebrows.

“No. Of course not.” Daniel pulled a face. “I'm just saying.”

“Tell me about your friend.”

“Jack...”

“Yes, but I'd like to hear from you. What do you think?”

Daniel shrugged and shared what he knew about Alistair and how he ended up at the tree house. Then he proceeded to tell BD exactly what he’d told Jack. That he felt like he had to do something. “So maybe it's about me, too,” he grudgingly admitted. “But I'm fine, really.”

“Ye-ah. And I am supposed to believe you – why?” 

“Because.” The written lines in his journal became blurry and he blinked. “Because I have to be.”

“Because you can't be rattled by an old childhood memory so much that it's impacting your life even now? Because you feel like after all you've been through in the last seven years this little piece of life should be like a walk in the park?” 

Daniel swallowed. “How can that be so hard? How?”

“You were eleven years old, Daniel. We. We were eleven years old. We’ve carried this around with us for such a long time maybe it's become part of what we are. Something that's been shoved far down into the memory box.” BD didn't look at him. His eyes wandered across the room, settling on nothing in particular. “It usually isn't an issue anymore. But with the downsizing it surfaced again and you kept trying to shove it back into its grubby hole. But maybe now it needs to come out.”

“I don't want it out. I don't have to talk about it to know it was … was ugly.”

“But you think helping Al will make it better.”

Daniel shrugged. “Yeah. I guess.” He wiped a hand over his brimming eyes. “Jack... Jack wanted to show me how to play baseball last year,” he blurted out. “He kept suggesting I'd be a great player. The thought of… of even seeing a baseball field makes me sick. And I hate feeling that way. But Jack's not forcing me to try so it hasn’t been a problem, really.”

BD's lips curled into a thin smile. “I'm not too fond of baseball either.”

“Funny, isn't it? I was captured and tortured and imprisoned on so many Goa'uld ships and alien dungeons. But it never … it never triggered this... part of... I never even thought about them. But when Jack first asked me if I wanted to play baseball last year I kinda freaked.” Daniel thought this was hysterical. He bit hard on his lips to keep the giggles inside. Stupid, really.

“It's the downsizing. It brings up a lot of trash.” 

“Maybe.” Daniel exhaled deeply. “It still feels stupid. It's not like they killed or molested me. They were just kids.” After a pause he snarled. “I should have tried to fight them. I did let them do this to me, Daniel. I. Let. Them.”

“You didn't have much of a choice.”

“I should have tried harder.” 

“There was nothing you could have done.”

“You don't know that.”

“Yes, I do. I was there.” 

They stared at one another, one pair of dark blue eyes locked onto another. The same eyes. The same memories. Daniel swallowed. His big self was so much calmer than he was. So much more... him. How he used to be. At least that was what Daniel thought. But sometimes it was difficult to remember how it had felt to be big. How he had felt in his own skin. All those memories from when he was little the first time around had been no more than lurking shadows way back in the corner of his mind. God, he had to fight other demons in those years. There hadn’t been time or space for long buried childhood traumas when he’d been big.

But BD was right. The downsizing sometimes brought things back to the surface.

“I didn't have to deal with any of this in a long time. Didn't even think of them. But when Alistair showed up it all came back.” Daniel was suddenly angry. Angry at Al for breaking into his life and making things complicated again. Angry at Jack for calling BD. Angry at those faceless kids who had pushed Al to hide in his tree house. Angry at himself for being paralyzed by what only seemed to be one of so many bad experiences in his first childhood.

“I told Jack about Ellen and Geoffrey,” BD said quietly. “When we were in Minnesota.”

“Why?”

“I thought he needed to know.”

“Why?” Daniel didn't see why Jack had to know details of the foster homes he had stayed in. Ellen and Geoff had been nice until Ellen had gotten mentally sick and Geoff left them and Daniel had tried to take care of her on his own until she’d had a breakdown and the social worker had taken him away to place him with the... the... the other people.

“It makes it easier for Jack to know where you're coming from. If he knew about the Wrexlers for example he might understand your need to help Alistair better.”

The Wrexlers. That was their name. Daniel groaned. “Why don't you tell him? You told him about Ellen and Geoffrey. Why not about the... the Wrexlers, too?”

“You need to do it,” BD said. “I can't explain it. I just believe this is it. This is your chance to let it all go. If you ever want to get rid of this memory, if you ever really want to get it out of your system this is the opportunity. Once you shoved it back in its hole it might never bother you anymore. But maybe it will raise its ugly head again. It's so close to bursting out of you now. Let it.”

“It won't make things undone.”

“I think it will help to let it go. Maybe it's time...”

“That's what Jack said.”

“And maybe he's right.”


	4. How Daniel Jackson O'Neill beat the Devil IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: violence, description of child abuse (no sexual)

**VII**

Jack was waiting … pacing from the dining room into the kitchen and back. The dog had followed him like a shadow, sensing his anxiousness just like he sensed when the kid was unhappy or mad. Curiously enough the dog didn't seek the kid's company tonight, but stayed with Jack. After he’d almost stumbled over Flyboy twice he snapped at him to get lost. Now the mutt was lying by the back door, subdued but still watching Jack's every move.

He stopped in the doorway to the kitchen and took pity on the black beast. “It's not your fault. You didn't do anything wrong,” he said soothingly. “C'mere.”

Understanding, if not the words, but the tone of voice, Flyboy rose and came over, happily licking Jack's hands and receiving some petting in return. With a wince at his knees Jack crouched and gave the dog a hug. He ended up sitting on the linoleum floor propped up against a cupboard, the dog trying to crawl into his lap like a puppy.

“I hate to break it to you, buddy. But I think you've grown out the baby stage long ago,” Jack scolded mildly, keeping his arms around the massive body anyway. He got why the kid sought so much comfort from the dog's company. Flyboy was an overgrown puppy at times, an almost scary alpha dog at others. But he was nothing if not loyal to his very core. And sensitive to their moods like he had an antenna on his big head. 

When two black sneakers and jeans clad legs appeared in Jack's view he looked up quizzically. Flyboy wagged his tail, but stayed plastered to Jack. “How is he?”

“Coming around. I think.” 

“Grab a beer.”

He watched Jackson retrieve two beers from the fridge, opening them and handing one to Jack.

“He wasn't happy I called you,” Jack pointed out after he took a swig of the cold liquid. 

“I know.” Jackson perched his butt on the corner of the kitchen table. “I'm glad you did, though.”

Jack squinted up at him in the fading sunlight. “I know you think he has to tell me himself whatever he needs to... share.” He didn't know how to ask this. How to even think about it. He was scared to hear the answer. “But I need to know this from you. To... be ready for...”

Their eyes locked and Jack opted for asking silently, knowing his friend would understand. It's what they did. Talking without words. The raise of an eyebrow, a twitch of the mouth, a poignant look. It was still like that with Daniel no matter if big or little.

“It wasn't sexual,” Jackson said finally. “But that doesn't mean it wasn't bad.”

“Okay.” He could deal with that. With whatever it was. As long as it wasn't... that. He wouldn't have known how to help his kid if… But it wasn't. Which was good. 

“They asked me that at the hospital; If the Wrexlers touched me in any way, if they did “things” to me. Once they were sure I hadn’t been raped they were relieved and didn't ask much further.” Jackson had his hand tightly wrapped around the neck of the bottle. “As if... anything else was just peanuts. As if there wasn't...”

“Hey.” Jack was about to push the dog aside, but Jackson held up his bottle to stop him.

“I'm fine. Just angry. But it isn't haunting me the way it is him. Those old wounds hurt him way more than me.” 

They fell silent for a while. Finally Jack asked. “When's your next mission?” He kept track of SG-1's mission schedule, but he wouldn't let them know that. They might think he was hovering too much. Or worrying or whatever.

“Not until Monday.”

“Look... this kid, Daniel's new friend. He's scared of the dog. And I kinda told him he could come over tomorrow.”

“I can take Flyboy home with me.”

“Thanks.” If Daniel insisted on going through with this crazy idea of his it was probably best to start things slowly. Having to lock the dog away all day was stress for both, the kids and the animal.

“Are you going to help this boy?” Jackson asked.

“As opposed to having the brat in my face all the time about being mean and cruel?”

Jackson grinned. “I wouldn't put it that way. But, yes.”

“I'll see what I can do.”

“Thanks. From both of us I guess.”

One of these days Jack would stop those two from talking him into all kind of things. One of these days he'd remember he was a bad ass colonel in the Air Force who took no crap from anyone. He'd stop letting those blue puppy dog eyes and sharp tongues manipulate him. And he'd stop letting the Daniels wrap him around their little fingers.

Apparently today wasn't that day, though.

Jack gently pushed the dog off his lap and struggled to his feet. “Don't thank me just yet. Daniel's gonna have to stick to my conditions on a couple of things and he's not going to like it.”

“I'll help as much as I can,” Jackson offered.

“I'm gonna call you on that.” He planted his half empty bottle on the table and was about to rant a little more just for good measure when LD showed up. The dog immediately went to lick little hands and gently nudged his young friend with his nose. 

“I wrote it all down,” Daniel said. “Well, part of it. In my journal. But then I decided I don't want to read it ever again. And I don't want to have it in my journal. It's not part of my life. Because this is my life now and the kid from back then, that's not me anymore.” He looked up at Jack so serious, so many years of life experience in such young eyes. “I want you to tell Svenson if you think it's necessary. Because I will only talk about this once and I won't … I won't allow her to analyze and tear it apart. But I guess she should know.”

“Okay,” Jack said once again stunned by Daniel's unconditional trust in him. It had always been like this. Daniel never reached out easily. But if he did, he reached out to Jack. And Jack still sometimes feared he couldn't live up to it. 

“Can we go to the roof?” 

“Sure.”

Jackson put his bottle down. “I better leave you to it. I'm taking the dog...”

“No.” Daniel latched onto his counterpart's hand. “I want you to be there.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes. You need to get rid of it, too,” Daniel said quietly.

Jackson looked like he would rather be someplace else, but didn't object.

Jack thought the kid was right. What's good for the goose...

So they trudged out into the yard together and climbed up to the roof. They settled on the wooden bench, the youngster wedged in the middle between them. Stars were lurking above their heads and the moon was half full. It was still warm, a gentle breeze ruffling their hair.

“You know about Ellen and Geoffrey and how the social worker took me away from there after I called Ellen's doctor when she refused to leave her bedroom for several days,” Daniel began, his voice oddly distant. “They placed me in a new home soon after that. There were already three older boys, all fostered, too.”

Jack listened as Daniel talked about the Wrexlers and their bunch of boys, all playing on the baseball team at Daniel’s school. Foster dad was coach and very proud of all his kids being little running and pitching machines. Except Daniel, who, "...never could hold the damn bat right..." and never ran fast enough. One day his three foster sibs apparently had enough of the loser and cornered him after practice was over.

"It had rained all morning. Everything was muddy and wet. When the coach was gone, they grabbed me and pushed me down into a puddle of mud." Daniel stopped.

"Tell me," Jack coaxed gently.

Daniel's small hand searched for Jack's and when he had entwined their fingers, he continued. "Larry was the biggest of them. They were all a lot bigger than me. Not much older. A year, maybe two. But all buff and strong. Larry wasn't just big. He was huge. He knelt on my back and squashed my face into the mud. Andy held my legs and Jason rubbed mud and grass into my hair. My glasses broke from the pressure on my face. When I got home Mrs. Wrexler yelled at me for breaking them and for getting dirty.”

Daniel stopped again, his fingers squeezing Jack's hand painfully as he let out a hitching breath. “This was a bad idea. I really shouldn't....”

“No no, come on. There's only one way to go now. Forward,” Jackson urged.

“I don't...”

“He's right. You can do this.” Jack knew this was something that had been simmering under the surface for quite a while now, wanting to break out, like a painful abscess.

“Okay.” Daniel nodded. “I can do this.”

“Yes, you can. Go on.”

“Mrs. Wrexler was mad because new glasses cost money and she had to take me to the optometrist which meant I was costing her time, too.”

Jack tried not to wince at his fingers being squeezed to mush.

"When Mr. Wrexler came home she told him what happened. He called me downstairs and I thought he was going to beat me because of the broken glasses. He'd already been mad at me for being such a loser on the baseball field. But when she told him about my broken glasses and that I had to take a bath... wasting the hot water because she couldn't get all the dirt out of my hair with cold water..."

"She tried to scrub you under cold water?" Jack asked, not able to keep the snarl out of his voice.

"Yes. The Wrexlers were all tough and we kids had to take cold shower. It was good for the immune system we were told. Anyway.... He didn't beat me. He didn't even yell. He smiled." Daniel swallowed and Jack thought he'd probably lose some of his fingers the way they were gripped and twisted. He gently put his other hand over Daniel's, prying his fingers lose.

It was Jackson who spoke now. “I remember that. That smile. It was creepy. He said that beating had been long overdue and that I've got what had been coming to me for a while and that I should consider it fair punishment for being clumsy and whiny. Then he sent me to bed.”

“No.” Daniel shook his head. “He sent me to the basement to think about my behavior. And they left me down there for the night. All the boys got that punishment from time to time, but I spent more time down there than anyone else.”

Jackson stared at him, then nodded. “Yes, of course. The basement. I forgot that.”

Daniel continued his tale in that odd detached voice like he was reading a boring report about a deserted planet without anything to explore. O'Neill listened to this quiet light voice recalling a long night locked away in the narrow basement without anything to eat or a blanket and without anybody looking after the bruises on his body.

"That's how it was,” Daniel said to Jack's horror. “He never hit me. He never ever touched me in any way. But his other kids did. They pushed me around between them like a punching ball. I had to do their homework and chores. When I refused, they beat me up. Mr. Wrexler made me go to baseball practice with them and every time I screwed up, they beat me up. And whenever they beat me up I was punished by their parents for being dirty and tearing my clothes or breaking my glasses. They stuck me down into that basement and didn't give me dinner.”

“There was only one small dirty window,” Jackson recalled flatly. “And no light. I think it must have been a coal cellar once.”

Jack felt sick.

Daniel had tried to fit in, had tried to play baseball. But he always managed to fail the expectations of his foster father... Jack growled at the term father. To call that man a father was like calling Aphophis a saint... “What about the other kids on that team? Didn't they get what was going on?”

“I don't know. I was never harmed in front of anyone. They always got me after practice when everyone else was gone and we were waiting for Mr. Wrexler to take us home. He never showed up during the beatings either. Only when they were done did he appear. And when it happened at the house nobody cared anyway.”

“He knew what was going on. He told his other kids exactly when to bash me or how to do it,” Jackson quietly chimed in. “I tried to fight them at first. I refused to do their work. They could beat me, but they wouldn't enslave me. They weren't going to break me. Ever.”

“That's what I thought. But they were three against one. They flushed my homework down the toilet, tore my school books apart, put dead insects into my lunchbox.” A thin smile ghosted over Daniel's face. “Never a dull moment.” 

God.

Daniel had done a lot of running back then because they had tried to get to him on their way home from school, too. So he was always on the run, always on the look out. One time he confided in one of his teachers, a kind man who always admired Daniel's history interest. But Mr. Wrexler had been the school coach for many years. It was unthinkable that he or his other sons would abuse the poor orphaned boy. The teacher told Daniel to curb his imagination and be grateful to have a new home where he was treated well.

“I wanted to run away. But I wasn't stupid enough to think I'd be getting very far. Larry had that bike.” Daniel shrugged. “I imagined I could take it and run. I never did, though.” 

“How long...” Jack asked voice hoarse with emotions.

“Couple of months, maybe six or seven... close to a year probably. One evening I snapped. I refused to do homework for one of them. I had a headache and didn't feel good. I guess I had a cold or something. He smacked me around and I struggled and tried to get away and fell. Hit my arm somewhere and there was a nasty cracking sound.” 

They had locked him into the basement after that for not doing what he’d been told and he had spend the night there with a broken arm and a cold. They didn't send him to school the next day because the arm looked twisted and he'd been running a high fever. “I was underweight, too, which probably was my luck.”

“How...” 

“I passed out. At least I think I did. They gave me something for the pain the next day and kept me home in my room. I'm not sure what happened. All I know is that finally they took me into the hospital.” Daniel let out a deep sigh that seemed to come from the bottom of his soul. “The End.”

“What...” Jack started, but was cut off by Jackson.

“Charges were pressed for neglect and abuse. They returned me to the orphanage and I stayed there until I was 13. Then I was moved on to someone else. It was okay there, even good. Peaceful. A couple that took care of abused kids. I could finally get some peace. I stayed till I went to college when I was around 15.”

Deadly silence settled over the three on the roof. It was dark now, the stars twinkling above their heads. Slowly Jack came out of his stupor and the world started moving again. Crickets were singing. Somewhere a frog called for its mate as Jack tried to get the cold fury under control.

He had heard things like this, horrible unthinkable things, on the news. Had shaken his head at people who were worse than scum in his book. Had felt sorry for kids who had to endure treatment like this.

Now it had become very real and very personal. Someone had done this to his kid. Some sick perverted bastards who would wish they were dead if Jack ever found them.

“Jack?” Daniel's voice, small and trembling.

He kicked himself out of his rage. There would be time to vent later.

"Hold me," Daniel whispered.

Jack opened his arms and Daniel crawled into his lap just like the dog had done earlier. Sagging against his chest Daniel started crying softly.

***

He didn't know there were so many tears in him that wanted to get out.

In the beginning after his downsizing he had cried a lot. For a lot of reasons. But these tears felt like they were coming from so deep deep within him. Like from a well that had been sealed for a long time. Now someone had opened it again and the water was flowing out, bitter and salty.

Jack held him and rocked him. Held him tightly and rocked him gently.

Daniel hated nothing more than to lose it. Had hated it when it happened during his sarcophagus addiction. Hated it every time it happened ever since he was a kid. But he was little now. Jack said being little sometimes meant losing control and not being able to get a grip on himself. Being little also meant it was okay, that it happened from time to time.

Slowly the well subsided, pouring out its last splash of poisonous water.

There was another pair of arms embracing him and Daniel felt BD's face press against his neck. “That's it,“ BD said after a while. “You did it.” He was crouched behind him, both arms wrapped around Daniel.

He turned and twisted in Jack's arms to look at BD whose eyes seemed to glitter with unshed tears. But it could've been just the moonlight playing tricks on him. “You did it, too,” Daniel said.

BD pulled back and sat on the deck propped up against the banister. “Yes. I did.”

Daniel wiped away the remaining tears and tried a tentative smile.

The well was empty.

***

Jack held the small pliant body in his arms and blinked as he gazed at the stars.

He knew he couldn't make the world stop spinning and he couldn't prevent Anubis from showing up eventually. There were a lot of things in this and other worlds Jack didn't have control over. Maybe he couldn't protect Daniel from getting hurt by whatever was coming their way no matter how hard he tried.

But his past wouldn't hurt him again. Because the kid had finally faced it and hopefully, with a little help and more time passing, it wouldn't raise its ugly head again. And if it did, Jack was gonna shoot it. Right. Things never were that simple. But he felt they had just lost a huge honkin' chunk of trash.

Brushing the knuckles of his hand over Daniel's still damp cheek, Jack said softly, “Hey, Space monkey. I think you just beat the devil there. How ya feeling? I mean, really... In here.” He placed a hand over Daniel's fast beating heart.

“I'm good,” Daniel said, then sighed. “Okay, not... peachy. But better.”

Jack gazed over at Jackson. “You okay?”

“I need a drink,” Jackson admitted. “But yeah, I'm good, too. I guess.”

There wasn't anything else to say as they made their way back into the house a while later. Tomorrow they'd talk about this some more. They would figure out what to do with Daniel's new friend and hopefully find a doable way of dealing with things.

For now Jack tucked a very exhausted and clingy kid under a comforter on the couch where he fell asleep in no time. Daniel didn't want to be alone right now and Jack was more than willing to indulge him. So he sat next to the sleeping boy, absently patting the small feet in his lap, and watched Jackson, who was in the recliner sipping on a glass of whiskey.

“You can stay the night if you want to,” Jack offered somewhat awkwardly. That would be a first. Jackson never stayed over. Partly because Jack didn't have a spare room anymore, partly because it was... awkward. “You can crash on the couch.”

“No, thanks. I'll take a cab.” Jackson squinted and rubbed his eyes. “I need to get rid of my contacts,” he said tiredly. “Don't have my glasses with me.”

“You'll be okay?”

“Yes. He on the other hand...” Jackson grimaced. 

“Nightmares,” Jack said. 

“Probably.”

“We'll deal.” Nightmares were something Jack could handle. He wasn't so sure about Doctor Svenson though. “The Doc might want to explore this further with him once I tell her. And I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not.”

“All you can do is wait and see. Maybe talking about it was enough. After all this time...” Jackson shrugged. “I don't know. Maybe it's a good thing he has this new friend now.”

As if on cue the phone rang and Alistair's dad confirmed his son was allowed to visit tomorrow. Jack considered telling him that the kid had skipped daycare and was in some trouble. But still rattled by what he'd just heard from Daniel he didn't have the energy to launch into this discussion right now. Al's dad sounded like a nice guy and thanked Jack for his hospitality.

“My boy doesn't have many friends so if it isn't too much trouble... he seemed to be very happy about Daniel's offer,” Mr. Miller said.

“Yeah, that's okay.” In a spur of the moment, Jack said. “Look, why don't you come over tomorrow and pick him up...”

“I’d love to, but I won't be home until nine or ten and my wife is doing night shifts. He has a key so he can come home anytime.”

“Right.” Jack rubbed his temple. “Maybe some other time then.” He hung up, wondering what he had gotten himself into here. 

He had an inkling the following weeks would be... interesting? Difficult? Different fer sure. If Daniel didn't change his mind about his new friend after having him around for a full day tomorrow. But then, Daniel was like a dog with a bone, so …

“Jack?” Jackson put his whiskey glass on the table. “I invited Fergus to the birthday party.”

“I know. He told me.” Jack took a sip of his drink. 

“Don't obsess over it. He's just a friend who happens to be my neighbor. And he's feeding...” 

“...the fish, yeah I got that much. I'm not obsessing. I thought he was mugging you.” Jack scowled, irritated. “Has a weird accent.”

“He's Scottish,” Jackson pointed out. “That's not so far from Irish.”

“And? So? Therefore?” Jack narrowed his eyes. “He won't bring any Haggis, right? Just beer.”

“You'll like the ale. It's real good stuff.” Jackson stood and stretched. “Can I use your phone?” 

Jack tossed the phone at him and watched him as he called for his cab. When he had finished his call, he sat down again. “They said it might take a few.”

Jack gazed into his own whiskey glass. “Did ya know Carter has a boy friend?”

Jackson's eyebrows climbed upwards. “She does? Wow, that's... cool.”

“She's bringing him to the party.”

“Hey, that's great.”

They fell silent, both caught up in their own thoughts until they heard the engines of a car outside.

“You sure you're okay?” Jack asked as they both stood and headed for the door. He realized he didn't want to let him go. He knew the kid was much closer to these old memories than the adult. Yet, Jackson sure felt the impact of what they shared tonight, too.

But Daniel's adult version smiled genuinely, shaking his head. “Yes, Jack, I'm okay. Thank you for… everything.”

“Don't go all sappy on me,” Jack muttered. Moments like this always seemed to tie his tongue and it took some effort not to say something utterly stupid or sarcastic. It was easier with the kid. Kids - even little Daniel – needed to hear things like 'I love you' and 'We'll be okay' and 'I'm always here for you'... and it felt more natural to say it to them.

It had been easier with adult Daniel, too, when they had still been together.

He clapped the broad shoulder, let his hand linger on Jackson's sweater, feeling the warmth of skin underneath. Jack's fingers developed a mind on their own and trailed up to Jackson's neck, squeezing gently. “Take care. I'll see you on Friday.”

He closed the door, activated the alarm system and went to pick up his bundle of Joy from the couch.

Daniel was sitting up, knuckling his eyes and yawning. “Head hurts,” he mumbled.

“How bad? You need a Tylenol?” On auto pilot Jack touched Daniel's forehead for temperature, but it felt cool enough. Must've been all that crying. 

“Nah, just tired. I'm going to bed now.”

“You want to sleep over at my room?” Jack carefully eyed Daniel, not sure how much comfort the kid needed.

“No, I think I can sleep alone. Where's Flyboy?” Daniel looked around for his dog. 

“Jackson took him home so your new friend won't be scared all the time. If you need anything...”

The kid's eyes widened. “Did Al's dad call?”

“Yep,” Jack confirmed while he folded the comforter and put it on the couch. “So get some sleep and be bushy tailed in the morning. And you better find something to do because I won't entertain the two of you all day.”

Out of the blue Daniel hugged him, little octopus arms threatening to break his ribs. “Thanks, Jack.” Then he pulled back, grabbed his glasses from the coffee table and padded down the hall.

As Jack turned down the light and followed his kid for their nightly “tucking in” ritual, he felt the foreshadowing of changes. But for once he was inclined to believe at least some of them happened to be good ones.


End file.
